#aiku oliver x reader

[saekkas]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

summary: in which someone flirts with them, but they're only looking at you.

includes: isagi, nagi, reo, yukimiya, rin, sae, kunigami, kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.

notes: this one's shorter than the one before but still, go wild my loves <3

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐆𝐔𝐘 who values you very much. is the type to be very secure in the relationship; doesn't like any unnecessary drama and is definitely ready to move onto the next stage. wouldn't really care about the other person but will not tolerate having his boundaries crossed. especially when it's clear that he's yours and yours only.

isagi, yukimiya, bachira, nagi.

his eyes are on his phone, feet tapping against the tiles of the cafe. it's a hole in the wall that he's used to frequenting with you, so much that the staff know your orders by heart. the line is short, seats mostly empty, as the rush hour has passed. the rain is pouring against the window beside him, and he taps his finger on the table to their rhythm.

tilting his head, his eyes find you in the middle of the line. you're focused on the menu, your bottom lip between your teeth as you scan the list of food and beverages. it makes him smile, chuckling under his breath because he knows you'll end up getting what you usually do. he gets onto his feet, wallet in hand, when you're finally set to order.

"hi. good morning, how are you?" your sweet voice tickles his ear as he approaches, his heart warm and sated as you go through your usual routine.

"hey." he presses a kiss to your head, wrapping a hand around your waist. his lips trail down, stopping at your cheek, a smile pressed against the skin as he hears you giggle. "what's taking so long?"

the cashier smiles, amused at the sight. "mornin' i'm great. how about you two lovebirds?"

"we're good," he answers for you both, an easy-going expression on his face. he looks down, scrunching his nose at you while you giggle at his answer. "just waiting for this angel to finish ordering."

"we'll have matcha latte, caramel macchiato, and a blueberry cheesecake please. the usual." he tilts his head, looking for your confirmation. he smiles proudly, chest puffing when you nod your head.

"i'll pay," you say as you show your card to the cashier, smiling at her. he chuckles, letting you take the bill this time. "how much will it be?"

the drinks are out in a second, the green and brown a contrast against each other. there are two pairs of utensils on the plate, and he thanks the staff for their work, taking the tray into his hand. "i'll take these to our table first, okay?" he looks over his shoulder, a gentle look in his eye as he processes just how... domestic this all feels.

"yeah, i'll be there in a minute. i need to go to the bathroom." you smile at the cashier one last time, tucking your purse into your bag. you glare playfully, poking your tongue at him. "don't you dare finish the cheesecake before i'm back."

he pokes his tongue back, a laugh breaking loose from his chest. "no promises."

he sits back down, placing the food on the table as he goes back to drumming his fingers. the rain doesn't look as if it'll be stopping any time soon, wind combining with water to shower the earth clean. he looks at his watch, mentally thinking about making dinner later with you. a smile grows at the thought.

there's a shadow in the corner of his eye that he assumes is you. he smiles, ready to lean over and press a kiss, only to stop when his eyes meet a stranger instead. "sorry." he backs away, a furrow in his eyebrow as he looks around, searching for you. "you've got the wrong table."

"no. it's okay. i've definitely got the right table." the stranger lays it thick with a high-pitched tone, and fluttering eyelashes. "hi, handsome. here's my number."

he watches as she slips a piece of paper onto the table, confusion blending into annoyance when she leans over to take his hand. "look," he says with a frown, pushing his hands into his pockets. he's very obviously looking in the direction you went off in. "you've got the wrong table and i'm already with someone."

"ah but i don't see this someone?" the smile on her face is pushing at his limits. his jaw ticks when she moves to sit beside him. "c'mon, handsome. give me a chance."

the bathroom door by the end opens with a creak, and his head snaps at the sound. before she has time to reach over once again, he's quick to swerve away to your side. you're already eyeing the girl at your table with curiosity, your head tilted in question. "hey, who's that? one of your frien-"

he doesn't let you finish. he's quick to reach for your waist, tugging you into a kiss with a hand cupping your cheek. all negative feelings drain from his limbs, turning him into a puddle of love as you thread your fingers into his hair.

"as much as i love your kisses," you say with a gasp of breath as you look up into his eyes, finding love looking back at you through the orbs. "that was a bit sudden. did something happen?"

"not at all." he shakes his head, nuzzling into your nose. his hands are on the side of your neck, lovingly stroking the skin. "not now that you're here."

you look back at your table, seeing it empty, and the girl from before nowhere in sight.

"shall we enjoy our drinks?" he pushes you with the hand he has on your waist. he sits down first before pulling you to sit right beside him, your hands intertwined under the table. "can't wait to eat dinner with you later."

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. he won't say no to playful flirting since it feeds his ego but will only respond if you're somewhere near or in his field of vision. he won't give the other person any of his attention if you aren't. will think it's funny that they're trying their best but will either shoot them down in a way that crushes their pride or brush them off as if they don't exist.

reo, aiku, karasu, kaiser.

the bass is thrumming against his skull, a tune that doesn't fit the mall's calm and serene energy. he's sitting on one of those plush sofas in a clothing store outlet, tapping his fingers against his thigh as he waits for you to finish changing. he feels the warning glare the manager's sending, and he snorts as if trying to go into the dressing room with you is a crime. he would be so much more satisfied with you between four cramped walls than in the wide space where people are obviously gawking at him.

"excuse me." someone calls his name timidly, and he cocks his head towards them, wanting to see where this goes. they send him a smile, one that's too teethy and falsely sweet but hey he can't fault them for not flashing his favorite smile; they aren't you after all.

"yes?" his reply is short and blunt, but he sighs when the girl flinches away. you've always said that his resting face looked too mean. he chuckles at the thought.

shaking himself out of his daydream, he shows his best smile. he leans back, arm stretched out against the back of the couch as he adjusts his pose, manspreading. a peacock, you'd once muse when he first did it in front of you. he watches with thinly veiled boredom in his eyes, a juxtaposition to the sickeningly sweet smile on his lips. "can i help you with something?"

the girl flushes, biting her lip and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. being coy, he realizes with an amused scoff.

"sorry to bother you. it's just- you looked so bored. i thought i could entertain you."

his eyebrow quirks at the word entertain, tilting his head in mock curiosity. "and how would you do that, hm?" he takes her in, taking in her choice of clothing and hairstyle. cute he'd give that much to her. nothing like you, though. she couldn't compare.

he realizes belatedly that the once over was seen differently than what he meant for it to come across. amusement flickers in his eyes when she flushes a bright red, fidgeting on her spot. "you do this often?" he tilts his head, eyes half-lidded, trying to gauge her reaction. "flirting with random strangers in the mall of a hobby, eh?"

"just the handsome ones," she says with a giggle. he watches as she points a finger to the row of clothes, her interest clear as day. "how about we look around? buy some clothes or jewelry so we match."

he chuckles, shaking his head at the thought. he can't wait to tell you about this. right on cue, the door to your dressing room opens, and you step out. his breath gets stuck in his throat, his eyes widening, and a grin making its way to his lips.

the black dress you have on is nothing short of stunning. it tapers off to your knees, the material hugging your curves. he sends you an eager look, one which you giggle at. you turn, showing him the back of the dress, keeping eye contact as you do. his mouth falls and thoughts short circuit as his eyes rake down your bare back, stopping just before your bum.

oh the things he'll do to you in that dress. no wonder the manager was so adamant on not letting him join in on the fun.

"nah," he says distractedly at the girl still waiting for his response. he sends you a wink and a flirty smile, mouthing one moment, before turning back to her. "see that gorgeous specimen right there? yeah i'm hers."

"she and i, we match." his eyes are filled with mischief as he tugs his shirt down, showing off the collection of marks you left on him last night. the skin around his collarbone is red, purple, and bruised. littered with love bites. a symbol of your love he thinks smugly. "see?"

there's pride blooming in his chest, a smug smile forming on his face the moment her eyes widen and the color drains from her face. "i'm not interested in anyone who's not her. so scram." he's quick to wave her away, skipping over to tug you back into the fitting room, this time with him in it.

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐂𝐄, the type to literally not care at all. will not give them time of day and will appear hostile if necessary. but he'll mostly just look at them, expressionless with dead eyes.

sae, rin, kunigami

there are so many options to choose from, he frowns, glaring at the row of refrigerators stacked next to each other as if they've done something wrong. the supermarket is relatively busy, customers ranging from middle schoolers to elderly. he's in the drink section, passing one fridge to another, looking for your favorite drink from outside the glass, his frowning reflection looking back at him.

you're somewhere in the dairy section, picking out pints of ice cream, and who knows what else. he checks his phone, checking for any new messages from you. i'll head over soon, after i find the popcorn, it reads along with multiple hearts and photos of you smiling beside the ice cream. he shakes his head, tapping a finger against the screen to save the photos.

he pockets his phone, ready to move on to the next isle when he bumps into someone. he huffs, his eyes looking at the girl that's staring right back at him.

"really?" she says with a flirty giggle after she gets a clear look at his face. he remains stoic, hands in his pocket, even as she nudges him on the shoulder as if a longtime friend. "you're handsome but if you don't say sorry when you bump into someone, they'll lose interest. but maybe that's your charm."

he moves to slight past her, not at all caring about her presence, but before he knows it, she's stuck a hand into his back pocket, sending a kiss playfully before bounding over somewhere he doesn't give a damn about. the frown on his lips deepens, but before he has the chance to look into his pocket, you pop up right beside him.

"hey, i can't find the drinks but i've got everything else." he hears you say as you show him your basket full of things, smiling up at him. there are all kinds of things in the basket, ranging from chocolate, popcorn, ice cream, sausages, and many more. tonight is monthly movie night and he tries to shake off the weird encounter from his mind, not wanting to dampen the mood.

he smiles back, leaning down to take the basket from you. the hoodie you have on is his, and it dwarves you. the hem reaches your knees, and he can't see your hands which makes him chuckle all the while more. you told him that you were cold, he knows it's just another excuse to wear his hoodie.

"let's go home." he ruffles a hand through your hair, affection getting the best of him, before taking your hand with his other.

he drops the basket on the self-checkout counter, and helps you scan all the necessary items. he eyes the chupa-chups by the counter and grabs two, strawberry and cola, scanning both and handing them for you to choose. he chuckles when you brighten, choosing the strawberry for yourself.

"i'll take the bags." he takes both bags into his left hand, the other placing itself on your back. he leads you out, shaking his head in amusement when he feels you slip your hand into his back pocket.

"hey what's this?" the tone of your voice has him frowning. "i didn't know you smoke. it's bad for you, ya know?"

looking down at the cigarette in your hand, he eyes the scribble of numbers surrounding the stick. ah that's what she slipped in, he sighs. taking the cigarette from you, he's quick to throw it to the ground, crushing it with his foot.

"i don't," he chuckles at the look of disbelief on your face. leaning in, he plucks the candy from your mouth, pressing a kiss and pushing his tongue in. you taste sweet from the candy he notes, you smell like ice cream too. he's quick to pull back, chuckling when he realizes just how flustered you've become.

"i prefer sweets," he says with a smug smile before popping the candy into his own mouth.

[rinhaler]

NOTSCAREDNOTSCAREDNOTSCARED!

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ frat boy!oliver aiku x f!reader

Genre: college!au (mostly shameless smut tbh) Notes: first fic on my new blog and it's absolutely disgusting, enjoy. Warnings: 18+, noncon, somnophilia, drugging, virgin killer!oliver, implied virgin reader, tit sucking, pussy eating, biting, fingering, marking, love bites ♡, creampie, spit, alcohol consumption, lmk if I missed any!! Words: 5.3k

What a naïve little thing you are.

That’s the first thing Oliver thinks when he sets his sights on you. A shy, sweet girl wearing the one and only cocktail dress you probably own. It’s so simple but makes a loud statement. You don’t look like the other girls here. You aren’t wearing designer clothes that fit you like a glove, no. The ill-fitting garment you’ve chosen to wear speaks volumes to your innocent nature and your lack of confidence. You don’t have friends, do you? You’re here, alone, in the sleaziest and most prolific fraternity on campus. Of course, it’s a party, and anyone is welcome to attend. But the fact that you decided to come here, alone, makes him think you might be a little stupid.

But that suits him just fine.

He doesn’t approach immediately, for fear of giving the game away too soon. He bides his time and observes your behaviours and mannerisms as you wade through the crowds. His eyes have followed your longing gaze a few times and noticed how you keep looking towards the kitchen. It’s the busiest room in the house right now, he assumes. That’s where the keg and all of the alcohol is.

But almost as soon as you look that way, you avert your eyes and look elsewhere in search of a place to belong. You’ve tried starting a few conversations with the girls, but Oliver knows how catty and mean they can be. Poor thing, fresh meat like you doesn’t stand a chance.

You’re lonely, aren’t you? You’ll feel better with a little company, yeah?

He carefully walks by you in a way that will cause you to spill the drink from your grasp. And with that, this sinful game can begin. The one in which he tells you how sorry he is for causing an accident and ruining your dress. He’s so apologetic that you just can’t help but forgive him right away. And his attractiveness doesn’t go amiss. The kindest person you’ve met thus far just so happens to be so deliciously handsome.

“Let me get you a refill, it’s only fair.” he winks. And you hate yourself because your stomach flits at the casual gesture. It’s probably a line that he uses on all of the girls he meets at parties like this. It’s plain to see that he’s confident. You’re sure there won’t be a shortage of girls throwing themselves at him after a gesture like that.

But you aren’t stupid enough to be the same.

He seems older, by at least two years. He seems comfortable enough here to get you a drink so maybe this is his party. He could have a girlfriend for all you know that is in another room and completely oblivious. You don’t want to make waves before you even experience your first day of class.

People seem friendlier towards you when they notice you with him. Is it genuine? Or could they be laughing at you? His hand resides in the small of your back as he guides you far into the kitchen; until you’re standing between an island counter and the fridge. Your body is warming, and, fuck, he can feel it. You’re so shy. He hasn’t seen a girl like you in a long time. The slightest bit of attention and touching and you’re putty in his hand. What a good girl you are, he’s going to have so much fun with you.

You watch him, carefully, as he rummages through the fridge and grabs a can of beer.

You’re a little deflated as he cracks it for himself and begins to chug.

“I didn’t catch your name.” he states as his unmistakable eyes watch you intently. He has eyes you’ve never seen before, and you’ll have a hard time forgetting. Mismatched purple and green. They’re dull, but not uninteresting by any means. They’re the eyes of a man who always gets what he wants. Those eyes beautiful eyes… they’re bored because they are a prestigious, all access key to gain whatever his heart desires. You hum, hesitating for a moment until you decide you’re too awkward and uncomfortable to hide your name from him. “Oh, that’s a real pretty name. I’m Oliver.” he introduces himself.

“Hey… Oliver.” you smile, unsure of how to respond. You’re so on edge. His peculiar eyes are examining each and every movement you make like you’re being graded. And your heart is pounding… you can’t help yourself. Nobody here has extended so much as a pitying smile. You want to pass his test, he’s the only person being remotely nice to you. But still, there’s a gnawing feeling eating away and corroding your insides and it makes you feel like a criminal, like you’re doing something wrong.

Like you absolutely should not be talking to him right now.

“You’re pretty too.” he smiles, brazenly. His voice is so deep and charming, a sonorous lull as he knows all he needs to do is utter these three simple words to get a girl like you to be completely and utterly captivated. It’s such a pathetic, insipid sentence and you can’t stand that it’s working on you.

You get a full view of his wide, toothy grin and you sense that he’s trying to extend a gesture of trust to you. And you’re encapsulated by it. Pristine pearls almost blinding you and short circuiting your brain as you arrive at the realisation that he might be perfect. His features nothing short of perfection and accentuate his beguiling persona that you can’t get enough of. You haven’t even noticed the way your chest is heaving as you devour a mind-altering cocktail with him as the main ingredient.

And he can’t help but chuckle when he notices how flustered you’ve become from his words, you adorable thing. Three little words are making you squeeze your thighs together and fold your arms over your chest. And don’t think he hasn’t noticed the quickened breaths you’re taking and the dampening forehead you’re suddenly trying to wipe away. He’s noticing everything about you and making mental notes in his mind he will use later.

Do you know how vulnerable you’re being?

You should know better than to be so visibly rattled by him. He may be handsome but he’s hardly screaming upstanding citizen at you. It’s the facial hair. It’s so grotesque and sleazy and wholly unpleasant. And still, the only thought swirling around your tiny, tipsy mind is how it would feel against your skin as you kiss. How would the scruff feel between your inner thighs as he devoured your petalled flesh. You shouldn’t be thinking like this, you aren’t sure what’s wrong with you.

You don’t know how to act, do you?

“Don’t be so nervous, sweetheart.” he tells you, getting closer. The smell of his cologne invading your senses. It’s familiar, it smells expensive and suits him just fine. The type of fragrance you’d save for a special occasion to make an impact and impress people you’re around. Your nostrils flare as you inhale more. More of it. More of him. You need more.

He angles his head as he monitors your response to his proximity. He grins when he notes that you aren’t sure where to put your hands. Moving them a few times before you decide to grip the overhang of the counter behind you until the skin covering your knuckles are taut, turning white. You want to feel his chest, don’t you? It’s so broad and muscular and peaking under his shirt, he doesn’t blame you. You probably haven’t had much experience with a guy like him.

He's more than happy to show you.

You’re starting to think your heart is packing up its belongings and preparing to flee from your own chest as you feel it beating rapidly against your ribs. He’s so intoxicating, you feel lightheaded and overwhelmed by the mere presence of him. His body is trapping yours against the counter. He’s so damn tall, taller than you could have possibly imagined now that he’s pressed against you like this. Your cheeks fill with heat, and you think you might actually faint against him if he doesn’t move away. “There are bad guys at places like this, y’know? Dangerous place to be so pretty.” he warns you, whispering gently in your ear. The tone rushing through your veins and forcing you to shiver. His eyes meet yours after he speaks, his stare willing you to understand what he’s saying.

“T-Thank you…” you mumble.

“Hey, don’t worry so much. I’m the house president, I’ll keep an eye on you.” he assures you, moving away ever so slightly while keeping a lingering hand on your shoulder. A commanding touch to make your body and your mind focus on him. His hand is cold to the touch and you realise it’s from holding the metal can, cold from the refrigerator. The cooling caress of his fingers is polar opposite to the warm smile he’s offering you. You aren’t sure what to do or say, but you need not worry about yourself anymore. He had intended on doing all of your thinking for you tonight, anyway. “Oh, shit, you wanted a drink, right? Let me get one for you.” he speaks, his body moving to act before you can even answer.

“U-Um…” you hesitate, seeing him grab a bottle of rum and a mixer. You hate spirits because they always get you embarrassingly wasted. There are four prominent occasions in the forefront of your mind as you reminisce on the states you’ve found yourself in after drinking spirits. The smell alone is enough to make you gag, but you do all you can to ignore it. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself, you don’t want to do something humiliating that will be talked about for years to come.

You aren’t a prude; you aren’t opposed to getting drunk. You just don’t think it’s a good way to introduce yourself.

He’s moving so fast, and his back is to you as he pours your drink, the red solo cup obscured from your vision as he fills it to the brim for you.

You dumb little thing.

Isn’t this something you’ve been warned about? Not letting your drinks out of your sight at any point, ever. Of course you have, it’s rule number one of going to parties or nightclubs or anywhere that your drink can be tampered with.

You just aren’t thinking straight.

And why would you?

You’re so out of place in this big, intimidating environment. You’re hardly going to suspect the first person to show you a bit of kindness is actually the shadiest guy at the party. But deep down, you know you should consider everyone a suspect after hearing what he had to say. If the guys here are so shady, why does he stick with them? If he’s the president, why doesn’t he tell them to do better?

These few fleeting thoughts have been nothing but. Passing ideas that you thought of and discarded as quickly as they arrived. You can’t live your life in fear or you’ll never make any friends here. And he’s going to all of this trouble for you. You’re nobody to him, and he’s still finding it in his heart to extend a benevolent demeanour to you and making sure you have a drink and a friendly face to keep you company for the night.

So you aren’t going to think twice that he’s slipped something in your drink, you can’t see what he’s doing, but for some reason, you trust him. Would you trust him, still, if he wasn’t so good looking? Would you trust him less if he hadn’t announced he is the fraternity president? He knows you’d never have trusted receiving a drink from him if he just offered it to you out of nowhere.

He’s happy he didn’t have to work too hard, you aren’t completely stupid, but you’re still dumb enough to accept a drink from him like this. You barely even think about it as he flashes you a beaming smile and hands it to you. Hell, it might even loosen you up. You knock half of it back in three seconds and you giggle after the fact.

He’s laughing too.

But it’s at your expense, you poor, sweet thing. You’re going to be seeing so many stars tonight, a sight reserved for Oliver’s favourite angels.

“You’re crazy, huh? You like to party a lot, baby?” he wonders, taking another swig of his drink as he rests against the fridge beside him.

“No, never! This is my first big party.” you confess, and he doesn’t miss the way you slightly cringe at yourself for saying something you must think is a little embarrassing. “I mean, I’ve been to parties… this one is just—”

“You’ll get used to it.” he tells you. “The first one is always memorable, though.”

“Really? How come?” you ask, curiously.

God you’re so cute, it’s killing him. Even he can’t hide the smirk forming on his face as he tries to conceal it with his beer. He decides to not answer. Instead, he admires the way you look disappointed at the prospect of him losing interest in you. He thinks he could bathe in the watery sheen glossing over your eyes as you worry that you’ve said something so stupid that he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.

He's such a disgustingly vile man. All he can think to do is refuse to put you out of your misery. Instead, he revels in the way you knock back the rest of your drink. The way your eyes widen paints a perfect picture in telling him it was too strong for you. Stronger than anything you’ve ever drank in your life. And that’s without the added ingredient he decided to slip in.

“I— do you have a girlfriend?” your question is abrupt as you wipe the excess liquid from your plump lips. Your watery eyes watching him keenly as you do your best to decipher his intentions.

“No.”

You scoff and shake your head. “I don’t even know why I asked you that, as if you’d tell the truth.” you mumble to yourself, but it’s loud enough for him to hear. And just as you’re about to walk away, he responds.

“I don’t care if you know whether I have a girlfriend or not. I would only care if I was trying to fuck you.” the sentence rolls off his tongue with ease. Like he knew exactly what you were going to say before you even thought of it. And you feel a wave of humiliation crash throughout your body; you feel a current trying to drag you under and suffocate you under the foaming sea.

“Y-You aren’t?” you need to stop talking. You need to stop embarrassing yourself like this. For his benefit. For the other people in the kitchen with you. It feels like everyone is staring at you and laughing at your expense. Maybe you’re just drunk and being paranoid. You should go, you should sprint out of here with whatever small scraps of dignity you have left.

He shakes his head, his hand reaching out to yours to pull you closer to him. It trails, up your side and to your chin as your eyes fixate on his. His thumb smooths over your chin, encouraging you to open your mouth for him. He tilts his can of beer onto your lower lip. The golden, yeasty liquid spills from the metal container and onto your tongue. Your eyes don’t leave his as all you can do is stand there and take it. Your little throat expanding with each glug of the disgustingly bitter drink.

Your body is once again pressed against the counter. He snickers when he feels your body jolt against his as you hear the sound of the beer can he was holding clattering against the tiled floor. And he takes great delight in the way your body melts against his touch as he places a hand on your hip. The other, smoothing the shell of your ear before he levels his mouth with it.

“I don’t need to try, I’m going to fuck you.” he whispers, he kisses against your ear a few times and the sound rushes straight to your clit. You squeeze your thighs together again hoping to alleviate the brewing tension. You pray you were discreet enough for him to not notice.

You weren’t.

And it’s worse as he kisses your neck so openly in front of everyone. He sucks and sucks and sucks until his name is signed in blue and purple blooms against your skin. You bite your lip, internally cursing him for forcing you to have to wear a scarf for the coming weeks until it fades away.

“S-Stop it.” your legs buckle and there is something wrong with your eyes. The room won’t stop spinning. You didn’t drink that much, did you?

“Woah!” Oliver exclaims as you fall into his hold. “You don’t know how to handle your drink, hm? I think you need to sleep it off.”

“T-Tax—”

“No, no. I’d be a terrible host if I made you get a taxi all by yourself. C’mon.” he lifts you with ease, your entire body limp in his arms. And he just can’t believe how lucky he is. How blessed he is to be born so genetically gifted. Because he knows there is no way in hell he’d be getting away with this if he wasn’t attractive. Girls looking at him like he’s some kind of hero coming to your rescue. Him, a hero. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t so fucking tragic.

There’s no way you’re forgetting your first frat party.

He’ll make sure of that.

As he passes a few of his brothers on the stairs, they all share a knowing look. Like this isn’t the first time Oliver has been in this predicament. And it surely won’t be the last. He winks at them as he walks by, and he puts you down as he reaches his door, your body dropping like a stone as he lets you fall with no care.

You can do nothing but groan as he drags you by your underarms and into his room. God you want to go home. Not to your student accommodation. Home. You want to be with your parents and under your own roof, sleeping in your own bed. It’s hard to even tell where you are. Are you still in the kitchen? No, there’s no way.

All you can think about is how tired you are.

Suddenly, you’re in the air, being flung onto a nearby bed. You feel like your body doesn’t belong to you. You’re no longer in control and you can’t move your limbs how you want to. You want to use your legs and walk right on out of here and into a taxi.

But you’re lucky, really.

Your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. It’s all his. His to do whatever he wants with. You can’t move, and yet Oliver is going to be kind enough to move you however he likes. Maybe you don’t feel so lucky about it. But you’re just confused right now. Oliver knows you wanted this. Wanted him. The pill in your drink was just a little insurance policy to make sure everyone got what they want.

He prefers girls like this anyway.

Nice ‘n pliant.

“Said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he smiles, lecherous hands feeling each and every inch of your body. A curious hand reaching up to touch the fat flesh of one of your tits as he massages it over your tiny little dress. “Think you can wear something like this and expect me not to fuck you?” he whispers.

“Mmmpf…” you hum, there’s still a little defiance in you. At this point, he wouldn’t mind if you were on the cusp of sleep. There’s something so special to him about extracting salacious moans from unconscious bodies.

“’m just getting you out of this little thing… gonna find a comfy t-shirt for you to wear to sleep.” he assures you. He wonders if you believe him. He almost believes himself. But as he pulls down the strapless bust of your dress and your supple flesh is revealed to him, the thought of covering it again dies an instant death in his mind. “Fuuuuuck, gorgeous fuckin’ tits.” he moans, his bulge straining against his jeans as envisions himself sucking them until they’re puckered and raw.

He climbs over you, your tiny frame beneath his domineering one. He’s sure you hadn’t neglected to notice how muscular he is before you passed out, even beneath his clothes. He must be some kind of athlete. He’s too beefy not to be. And boy, does he use his weight and size to his advantage when he’s dealing with delicate things like you.

His head practically falls from his shoulder as he decides to let his fantasy come to life. He licks and laves over your tits individually until he gets a little rougher. Softly nibbling the tender buds until they are aching and so sore. His teeth bruise your flesh as he marks them. An assortment of canines and molars as well as decorative love bites.

Any chance you had of forgetting this party are gone.

You’ll know what happened to you.

You might even remember who did it.

But there’s no way a sweet, timid freshman like you is going to have the courage to tell such an unbelievable tale. You might think there are steps in place to protect innocent things like you. You’re a victim, after all. You need protecting. But once again, that would just be so telling as to how naïve you truly are. Drugging pretty girls at college parties is never going to end. The staff, the students, even the police are never going to side with you.

And why would they? These false statements issued by the board, talks of ‘standing with victims’ and offering a listening ear are nothing but lip service. The institution you have found yourself in will say anything to seem like a worthwhile choice. The right and most beneficial choice to you and your future.

But the harrowing truth is that they don’t have time to protect girls like you when they are too busy covering up the messes of men like him.

He pushes your dress up to your midsection, exposing a pair of white lace panties.

“Awe, for me? You knew you were gonna get lucky tonight, didn’t you?” he asks. But of course, you’re unresponsive. His finger prods at the thin material, an involuntary laugh leaving his lungs as he is greeted with the feeling of your soaked underwear on the pad of his digit. “Too dumb t’speak right now… good job your cunt is telling me how much you want me.”

His thumb circles your clit over the material. And even he’s a little dumbfounded at the way your body betrays you. You squirm and your brows furrow as you try to stave off the pleasurable feeling. But for all he knows, you could be trying to fight him off.

He doesn’t care, though, your pussy already gave your true feelings away.

Even he can’t ignore the way his cock is leaking at the sight of your tight heat becoming exposed as he peels away your panties. A slick string connecting your sex to the material.

You must be a virgin, he thinks. Virgins get wet so easily. He suspected it from the moment he saw you. You’re so awkward and uncomfortable around people, but especially guys. You fumble over your words, and you can’t flirt to save your fucking life. But he didn’t care. The thought of your first time being with him was enough to make him want you. And even if you have fucked before. It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t need to know. The very thought is enough.

He pins your knees to your chest, and he begins to feast on your dripping cunt. You shudder as your body feels the tension building with each suckle and slurp against your clit. It’s unrelenting, he can’t get enough of you. He’s fucking addicted to the taste of your slick and he doesn’t know how he’s gone so long without it. Your left leg ragdolls as he lets go, opting to slip a finger into your unprepared hole without stopping his assault on your swollen clit.

And without hesitation, he’s adding another. He takes his time scissoring you open, and by now he’s convinced you’re a virgin. You’re so fucking tight. There’s no way you’ve had a dick inside of you. Or if you have, it must have been small.

You won’t have to worry about that with him.

Even unconscious, he’s sure you’ll feel how he’s gonna stretch you.

Your lazy groans are like a cheer to him. Your body is telling him what a great job he’s doing. How close you are. How badly you want to cum in his mouth and douse his thick, calloused fingers in your syrupy sheen.

The tip of his tongue lashes over the throbbing button at the apex of your thighs. He doesn’t particularly care if you take him well or not. You’re going to take him regardless. But he isn’t so heartless he won’t try and make it a little less painful for you. He’s urging you to cum for him, his free hand pressing down on your abdomen in a bid to enhance your pleasure. With each whip of his tongue against your clit and every press of your spongy insides with his fingers, he’s trying to drag you over the edge.

Your lifeless body surprises him once more.

He pulls away and observes the way your pussy pulses and your walls tighten around his fingers as you begin to cum for him. Your spent little cunt drooling around his thick digits and coating them in your slick. You even moaned for him. Not loudly, of course. A few tell-tale grunts to let him know you were happy with his work.

His eyes ogle your tits once again, admiring the way your chest rises and falls as he sucks his fingers clean. You’re so fucking cute. You must be heaven sent, the way you stepped into the frat may as well have been a gift with a garish bow from Santa Claus himself.

He unbuckles his belt with one hand whilst squeezing and pinching your nipples once again. They’re so pretty, the prettiest pair of tits he’s ever seen. He’s rock hard in his jeans, leaking like crazy and desperate to be buried to the hilt in your sweet little snatch.

And his heavy cock springs free, the tip leaving evidence of just how desperate he is on his v-neck shirt. Pearly pre shimmering against the black material that is soon to dry and harden and meld with the cotton fibres. But he can’t find it in himself to care. He pulls it over his head and throws it into the corner of his room, he’ll deal with it another time. There’s something much more entertaining lying atop his sheets right now.

“Mmm… think this is gonna hurt sweetheart. But you’re gonna be good ‘n take it f’me, yeah?” he lines himself up with your entrance and gives your still body one final look before breaching your insides with his thick cockhead. “Fuckin’ hell you’re tight. You’re so fucking tight, might cum just from this.” he speaks.

He knows you can’t understand him, but he can’t stop himself from communicating with you anyway. He needs you to know how special you are. That out of all of the girls at the party, he chose you. Don’t you feel special? He’s sure you will when you’re stuffed full of his cum. It’ll all dawn on you tomorrow and you’ll feel so honoured that the one and only Oliver Aiku fucked you open and covered you in so many pretty patterns and was even kind enough to pump you full of his cum.

You have no idea how much restraint he’s showing by not instantly splitting you open on his thick, heavy cock. He can’t help but feel that slowly plunging into your virgin walls is a better display of claiming your body. It’s almost torture for him, easing in inch at a time at an agonising pace.

And when he’s fully sheathed inside your suffocating walls, the pleasure is almost too much, he could shed a tear at the feeling. But, of course, he won’t. He’s prioritising the task at hand.

He holds under your knee and pushes it further into your chest and begins to slowly roll his hips. It’s hypnotising, the way even out of consciousness your eyes can still roll back into your skull. He takes note of how he’s moving when your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Oh baby… right there? Like it when I fuck you there?” he wonders, experimenting with his movement and speeding up ever so slightly. His cockhead is nudging your g-spot so perfectly. It’s so deliciously soft, and those saccharine expressions you’re donning are about to drag him to an early demise.

His grip on your thigh is harsh. Another galaxy of purple bruises forming under his fingers on your doughy skin. He hasn’t noticed. It’s second nature to him to be a little rougher than intended. But it’s part of the fun, right? More little discoveries for you to find in days to come.

He’s entranced by the way his cock vanishes inside of your cute cunt. He’s being swallowed whole by your sticky lips. The sound reverberates throughout the room. The suctioning sounds of you pulling him inside and the tackiness of your pussy and his cock meeting again and again and again.

Your eyes squint as he yanks down your jaw until he sees your tongue. He’s so abhorrent and even at this point he knows this to be the truth himself. He just can’t fucking help it. He wants to do anything and everything to you. He wants to humiliate you because you’re just that special to him. With a cartoonish ‘ptuh’ sound, a glob of spit has landed on your tongue and is slowly sliding down your throat.

With a few more presses of his tip against your sweet spot, you’re spasming around him again. Maybe you liked it after all. You wouldn’t cum if you didn’t. Do you like being taken advantage of by reprehensible scum like Oliver Aiku? Do you like being unconscious while getting your insides pummelled? This might warp your tiny little mind. Maybe you’ll think this is love and this is what you’re meant for. It is, as far as Oliver is concerned. He doesn’t let up humping into your tiny hole. He spits in your mouth again, and it’s the final straw to pull him into his oncoming bliss right along with you.

“Little slut,” he pants, his hips faltering as he feels himself reaching the precipice. “Mine. My little slut. My fuckin’ cunt. H-Hear me? Mine.” he practically growls as he shoots load after load into your unprotected womb. “Ah— fuck. Fuuuuuck—” he finishes, fucking his viscous seed back into you.

He pulls out immediately after, admiring the way his sperm drips and squelches out of your spent cunt. You’re clenching around nothing, poor thing. You must miss him.

But you don’t have to worry. You won’t have to miss him for long. You’re not done, after all. He just needs some time to recharge. He wasn’t just going to fuck you once and be done with you. Not a perfect little pussy like that, no. Those drugs will be in your system for a few hours.

He’s far from done with you yet.

© 2023 rinitxshi

[angelwolf745]

Blue lock Boys & their (I assume) love-trope.

[P2] Isagi, Bachira, Kunigami, Chigiri, Reo, Kaiser

Characters; Nagi, Barou, Rin, Sae, Shidou, and Aiku.

Nagi - The Sleepy Bf + Energetic Gf

Barou - The Cinnamon-Roll to his Hot-Head

Rin - The “He doesn’t like me” girl to, “You’re all I think about” boy

Sae - Fell first gf + Fell harder bf

Shidou - The Demon bf to his Angel gf

Aiku - Mr. Flirt + Miss. Fluster

[hyomaslut]

──★ ˙🍑 ̟ !! casual conversation between friends? 18+!

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴀsᴋɪɴɢ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ғᴏʀ ɴᴜᴅᴇs ᴘᴛ. 𝟸

✿ ─ characters: kaiser michael, ness alexis, aiku oliver, nagi seishiro ✿ ─ cw: smau!, extremely suggestive/borderline smut, aged-up!characters, college!AU, gn!reader, no pronouns, unestablished relationships/mutual pining, use of foul language, descriptions of genitalia, suggestive themes, slight implied cheating, oliver is so obnoxious im sorry, proofread? ✿ ─ notes: if you see this and you requested someone else, worry not. i'm far too much of a people pleaser to leave you hanging, there will be part three! if you're looking, part 1 can be found here!

KAISER MICHAEL...

you don’t know if its just curiosity driving you or some feelings towards kaiser you’d rather not confront, but impulsively you ask him for a picture. you don’t have much time to reflect on how wrong it is to be asking someone for nudes while in a relationship because before you know it you’re staring at his fit body and shit eating smirk that you hate that you like. its honestly near professional level quality too. a selfie of him laid out on his bed, basking in the afternoon sun peeking through his window. you let out a breath as you finally will yourself to let your eyes travel down and you finally notice the sheet he has draped around his hips. leave it to michael kaiser to persuade you to ask him for nudes only to tease you. still you could see a clear outline of his cock through it and you really wish he was lying about his size. you swallow harshly and you thank god he couldn’t see the crimson that has taken over your face.

NESS ALEXIS...

he sends it to you relatively quickly considering it’s alexis and you had half expected him to spend 20 minutes taking it only to chicken out and not send it. your surprise doesn’t end there, however, as the entire vibe of the image was far from what you were used to with ness. he’s sitting up against his headboard, joggers haphazardly shoved to his knees. he was holding his phone down near his thighs, giving you the perfect view, you didn’t know where to let your eyes land. the tips of his fingers gently pressed his cock against his abdomen, trying not to bite your lip over the fact that it was long enough to reach his belly button. ness must not skip core day at training, you think as you mentally trace every indent of his abs. the thing throwing you off was his face. he had the bottom of his shirt clenched between his teeth to hold it up to give you a better view and you don’t miss the intense look swirling in his eyes. it made your breath hitch in your throat. he had never seemed so focused, so serious. it’s as if his stare was piercing through the screen of your phone. the flush on his face made him look convincingly desperate, stirring arousal in your stomach to your embarrassment.

AIKU OLIVER...

you unfortunately can’t disagree with him. the last few times you hung out with oliver there has been a heavy tension that you’ve been fighting to ignore. it’s what drives you to reply a noncommittal maybe, which is much better than a no, and good enough for oliver. less than a minute later you get a picture, and you can’t help but think that he probably had taken it before you had even agreed. it’s in the mirror in his bedroom, the only lighting is the soft glow of his lamp. he stands facing the side, holding his dick which was at least twice the size of his hand and veiny. to your surprise, he’s well shaved, and as your gaze wanders up his body you scold the part of yourself that wants to drool over his abs and arms. you always knew he was toned, saw him play soccer a few times, but had never how truly sculpted he was. you knew you were doomed the moment you locked eyes on his stupid smile. dangerously charming, kind of like the man himself, one you could see yourself getting fooled by over and over again if you stared at it long enough.

NAGI SEISHIRO...

it takes him barely a few minutes. nagi’s picture is lazy. he was sat back in his desk chair, he just pulls up his hoodie a bit and slides his sweats down his thighs. it’s lit only by the glow of his computer, his cock is basically the only thing in frame… except the plastic water bottle he places next to it for a size comparison. honestly he shouldn’t get away with sending such a low effort nude, but it’s easy to get away with anything when your cock is as big as his. you couldn’t even do the mental math required to figure it out, but one thing was for sure, bigger than a poland springs water bottle. and it simply isn’t fair to be that long and wide at the same time. it almost makes you angry. of course naturally attractive, naturally talented nagi seishiro had a huge dick. you’re unsure if nagi knows how groundbreaking this information is and is choosing not to brag out of modesty or if he doesn’t realize he is the biggest you’ve ever seen.

🇧‌🇴‌🇳‌🇺‌🇸‌❗❗❗ (reo's perspective)

i hate tumblr please just upload my fucking screenshots like a good girl next time. okay now that all the rage is out, what do you guys think!!! part 3 will come out soon and will include: shidou, bachira, sae, kunigami, + mystery bonus?? not sure yet

© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.

[kingkunigami]

— hate you

You hate Oliver Aiku more than anything, if only he’d believe you.

Of course Oliver Aiku would be the first and only man to have me use the word ‘cunny’, but that’s the reason why we hate him right? Right—

Pairing: Aiku Oliver x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, hate sex, Oliver uses the word ‘cunny’ once, semi-public sex, dirty talk, no prep, creampie (reader tells him not to cum inside but he’s a prick).

Word Count: 2k.

You hate Oliver Aiku. Loathe him entirely. It’s as though this man exists to make your life miserable— and to destroy the battery in your vibrator, not that he ever needs to know that.

“Do you even know what the offside rule is, sweetheart?” He practically spat, his large form towering over you as he looked to intimidate you.

But it would never work. You were used to the same chauvenistic bullshit time and time again, by men who were far more powerful than Oliver Aiku. Remaining strong as you kept the flag high in the air and stood your ground, maintaining your verdict that the footballer was offside.

“I wouldn’t want a refresher from someone that doesn’t know what it is either.” You quipped coolly, watching his brows furrow as he kicked the ball towards Isagi in irritation.

And you tell yourself that the only reason why you’ve attended this stupid party in the first place was to annoy the centre back, and remind him that there’s no one else you hate more than him.

“Can you two just fuck already?” Chris Prince nudged your shoulder as he caught you looking across the room at Oliver, “You’re putting me off my pint.”

“I’d rather die.” You scoffed, chugging the rest of your drink before making your way towards the bathroom.

There’s no way you’d ever want to fuck a man like Oliver Aiku. He’s a misogynistic jerk that doesn’t deserve an ounce of your time, and you’ll spend the rest of your days reminding him of the fact. Worth nothing more than masturbation material as you rub your clit raw to try and get a quick release, replaying your sordid fantasies in your mind while you lay awake at night.

Or at least that’s what you try to convince yourself, as you now find yourself pressed against the bathroom wall by one extremely arrogant looking Oliver Aiku.

“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me all night, babygirl.” He teases, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t call me that,” You glower, but the cocky lilt to his voice had your clit betraying you. Stowing the sound of it away in the sordid core of your brain for later when you’d settle in bed with your trusty toy.

“Aww, don’t be like that,” He coos, placing his cup down on the corner of the bathroom sink as he corners you.

“I hate you,” The words are laced with venom as he cages you against the wall. The downstairs bathroom holds barely enough space for one person, nevermind Oliver’s hulking form. His broad shoulders box you in, and if you wanted to escape there would be nowhere to go— at least that’s what you tell yourself as you lean into his touch.

His lips ghost yours, and you can feel the warmth of him laced with a mixture of beer and far too much cologne. It leaves you feeling dizzy and disorientated as he invades your space. His palm circles your neck as he tilts your chin with his thumb, pressing the faintest butterfly kiss against your glossy lips as he gives you a chance to pull away. And you should, because you fucking hate him, right? But you don’t.

Oliver is ravenous as he captures your lips in a fierce kiss, his grip against you firm as he holds you in place. It’s difficult to think as he swipes his tongue against your parted lips, trying to delve deeper as he searches for entrance. Lashing against your teeth as you let him in, swallowing the groan that forms in your throat as he deepens the kiss.

Your legs feel like jelly as your thankful for his frame keeping you upright, your hands fist into the cotton of his shirt as you pull him closer. Your nose knocks against his clumsily as you feel him palm your clothed breast, slotting his thigh between your legs as he presses himself against your core.

You can’t help yourself— can’t stop your hips from jerking as you grind yourself against pure muscle, desperate to give some needed stimulation to your throbbing cunt. You can feel Oliver’s grin against your mouth as you pull away, licking his lips childishly to taste the saccharine of your gloss against his tongue. The messy pink hue tints his skin as he shamelessly slips his hands beneath your skirt to pull your soaked panties down.

You should tell him off when he pockets them without question, chastise him for being such an asshole. But the thoughts fall on deaf ears the moment his slender fingers brush through your messy folds.

“I hate you,” You repeat, although the venom has virtually disappeared to be replaced by the desperate sigh that escapes past your lips.

“Sure feels like you fucking hate me, sweetheart.” He groans, shamelessly prodding at your tight hole as it pulses in response, inviting him in like a tempting siren ushering a sailor to his death. Dragging the moisture from your weeping hole to press it against your puffy clit, stealing more pretty sounds from your throat.

“I do.” The words leave your lips as though you’re trying to convince yourself of a truth to them, sounding them against your tongue before licking your glossed lips.

He’s quick to undo his buckle, letting it hang in the loops of his jeans as he tugs them down enough to free his thick cock. It’s clear Oliver is unconcerned about foreplay, another reason why you should hate him more. But he has the decency to drag the leaking swollen tip of himself through the mess between your thighs before he presses himself against your tight entrance. Calloused fingers dig into the plush of your leg with even more urgency as he pulls your thigh higher against his hip.

“Yeah, yeah,” He gives a harsh rut of his hips that has your thick lashes fluttering as your nails dig into broad sboulders, “Can you feel how much I hate you too?”

He’s so deep inside you that you’re certain you can feel his cock pulse in your throat, the swollen tip angled perfectly to hit your g-spot with every messy thrust. Oliver gives another rough thrust to emphasise the statement, pushing you harder against the wall as you knock your head against the cool porcelain tile.

“You’re disgusting.” You groan, your chest heaves as he pulls your top down. Exposing your round breasts to his greedy eyes as he pinches a taut nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger as you tremble against him.

“I know,” He sniggers, “That’s why you’re soaking my cock right now.”

“Fuck you,” The words leave your lips like an insult, but your body betrays your repulsion.

“At least your pussy’s fucking honest,” He continues, his grip almost bruising against your skin as he starts a brutal place, “Feel her sucking me in.”

It’s hard to focus with the way he uses you, messy stubble scratches against the column of your neck as he peppers searing hot kisses against your skin. Your hands reach the base of his skull, nails scratch against his scalp as you try to find purchase. To find some semblance of reality as the man you’re so certain you despise splits you apart on his cock.

“Oh, baby. You’ve got the sweetest little cunny.”

“Shut the fuck up,” You feel yourself blanch at the childish word, the humiliation swirls in your pelvis as you scrunch your nose in disgust, “Don’t call it that.”

“Oh?” You can hear the mirth on the tip of his tongue as he noses the side of your face, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, “You’d prefer if I called her my perfect little cunt instead?”

The crude spit of the word has your walls clenching around him. A pitiful, carnal response to his words as his lips curl into a smug grin. Oliver laughs and you hate him even more, the desire to push him off you and leave him drooling with your slick to wipe that stupid smirk of his face is strong. But the desire to cum is stronger.

“She’s not yours,” You snarl, your nails practically dig into his skin now, leaving long red lines down the expanse of his back even through the thin cotton of his shirt.

“She isn’t?” He tilts his head to the side with fake perplexity, “Is that why she’s fucked into the shape of my cock?”

You hate his stupid dirty talk, or the pathetic attempt of it. But your body betrays your consciousness, drooling down the length of him as you leave creamy rings of slick around the base. Oliver wonders what you’d think if you knew he wasn’t going to shower tonight, content to fist himself again to the memory— with his cock still covered in a thick layer of you.

“It’s like she knows who she belongs to—” You dont know whether he’s talking to you or your cunt now, as he reaches between your bodies to thumb at your swollen clit. Rubbing messy figures of eight against it as your hips buck into him, trying to match his thrusts as you feel the coil onside you tighten.

“Yeah, not to you—“ Your retorts are just as pathetic as you are now, barely able to form a coherent response as you’re focused on the way Oliver manages to hit that same spot inside with precision. The engorged tip bruising your cervix with each roll of his hips, intent on leaving you with a buoyant throb between your thighs the next morning. A reminder of just how well he fucked you—

“Let’s ask her, shall we?” He sneers, pressing his lips against yours in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. Smearing what little is left of your sparkly lipgloss against his lips and your cheeks, “If you love my cock cum for me, sweetheart.”

You clench in disdain, refusing to submit to a man— no less Oliver Aiku. But he feels the way you squeeze him, the way you try to fight back and he refuses to lose to you now. Increasing his pace as his balls slap against the swell of your ass, the crude sound mixes with the squelch of your cunt as he pushes you towards the brink. Challenging you to hold back, to deny your pleasure.

“I know you want to,” He continues, “I can feel you squeezin’ my cock.”

And he’s right, you hate how right he is. Your toes curl in your shoes as your eyes roll back into your skull, finally succumbing to the pleasure flowing through your veins as a pathetic whine of his name spills from your lips.

“Oh you good fuckin’ girl,” He gloats, cherishing the way your cunt throbs around him. Continuing to use your body for his own pleasure as he pounds into your convulsing heat.

Your cunt continues to clench around Oliver’s cock, trying to milk him of his release as your head lulls back against the porcelain tile. His palm reaches up to hold the back of it, and normally you’d shout at him for touching you when his fingers are covered in your slick. But it’s uncharacteristically caring as he stops your skull from banging against the wall as he uses you for his own pleasure, shamelessly seeking out his release as he fucks into your quivering hole.

“Not inside,” You whine, staring at him through half lidded eyes as he pouts pathetically.

“But she wants it,” He chimes between sloppy thrusts, “She wants me to fill her up— oh, fuck.”

The way your walls pulse around him in response is all it takes to have him tumbling over the edge into his own pleasure, his forehead pressed against yours as he empties his balls inside your silky walls. Lining them with white hot spurs of his release as he gives a few more sloppy thrusts, fucking the mixture deeper inside you as he rides out his high.

“You’re such an asshole,” You groan as he pulls out of your abused hole, feeling his spend leak out of you as it drools down your inner thighs.

“Would an asshole have you this wet, sweetheart?” And you can already feel your cunt throbbing at the sight of his softening cock glistening under the fluorescent light.

“That isn’t me,” You sneer, but Oliver unabashedly holds himself up so you can see the creamy slick pool around his sac.

“You keep telling yourself that,” He grins, “And I’ll keep believing it.”

[kyunzin]

Hii could you do jealousy nsfw hcs for kaiser aiku and sae with fem reader? Thank you if you do

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞

characters; 𝐊. 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐀. 𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐈. 𝐒𝐚𝐞

cw; them being jealous (f!reader)

tags; nsfw, public sex, shower sex, marking, wall sex, creampie

a/n; sorry this took so long

𝐊. 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥

✰ anyone, especially his teammates, acting too friendly with you can set him off.

✰ he doesn’t say anything in the moment but you know something’s wrong when he goes quiet and slips a possessive arm around you.

✰ it’s only a matter of time before he’s taking the two of you away from the scene leaving everyone confused at your sudden retreat.

✰ he doesn’t take you home but brings you back to the boys locker room and corners you.

✰ “you didn’t know what they we’re doing, don’t lie to me”

✰ even when you deny he still isn’t satisfied lifting you by the back of your thighs and bringing you to the showers.

✰ he fucks you in the showers not bothering to contain your sounds slapping his pelvis against your ass the wetness from the running shower creating unmistakable sounds of your cunt being pounded.

✰ “scream louder. make sure they know who’s fucking you”

✰ once the both of you finally finish you get dressed but he makes you put on one of his jerseys bringing you back out to everybody.

✰ there’s no doubt that they heard you, from the way their cheeks are rosy and how they have their head down in shame.

✰ you however stay quiet slightly leaning into him with a slight limp as you walk around with him head held down.

✰ he walks with a proud smirk on his face head held high rejoining conversations as if he wasn’t balls deep inside of you mere seconds earlier.

𝐀. 𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫

✰ sees some guy trying to approach you in the stands, even when you decline he still trues to push himself onto you so you move away and find a better seat.

✰ he plays the rest of the game with a newfound agression that scores him 2 goals.

✰ after the match he finds you quicky telling the security about the guy before taking you you back home.

✰ you barely make it back to the bedroom before he’s hastily striping you of you clothes and fucking you against the wall.

✰ kissing dark bruises all over your neck and back, firm grip on your hips as he leaves a few bite marks along the side of your throat.

✰ “maybe if I leave enough marks they’ll leave ya alone”

✰ the both of you cum once like that and he still has enough resolve to carry you to the bedroom where he focuses his attention on the front of your body.

✰ leaving love bites up along the inside of your thighs before eating you out hungrily, nipping the side of your thigh when you try to push him away adding to his litter of marks.

✰ once he’s made you cum on his tongue and fingers he crawls over you and adds more marks up your chest and neck while slowly fucking you only stopping when your covered with his marks.

✰ “anyone who tries to do anything after seeing this is fucking stupid”

✰ he takes a photo of the two of you, all the marks on you neck on display and captions it ‘property of oliver aiku’.

✰ the next game he takes you to he makes you wear a short skirt and a v neck crop top showing of the dozen of marks he left daring you to try and cover them up.

✰ needless to say nobody bothers you that game or any others, they know that he’s claimed you as his.

𝐈. 𝐒𝐚𝐞

✰ it’s the same as oliver however instead of being harassed in public people are making comments about your relationship online.

✰ ‘I can treat you better’, ‘bet I could make you feel better than he does’, ‘I’ll show you how a real man treats a woman’

✰ people only see what the two of you are like outside, how he keeps an almost professional distance from you and create speculations in their head.

✰ once he’s had enough of all their delusions he decides to take out his frustrations on you, not that you mind.

✰ “think those assholes will treat you better than I can baby? i’m the only one good enough for you”

✰ after a match he makes sure to pull you into a heated kiss whil e all the cameras focus on you the crowd and his teammates whistling loudly.

✰ it gets posted everywhere and all the comments stopped except a few brave unnamed commenters who still feel they could do better than him and it doesn’t quell his jealousy.

✰ straight after the game he takes you home roughly fucking you into the mattress, bullying your pussy with his girthy cock, pushing your head down into the sheets.

✰ “do I not fuck you good enough, what more should a whore like you need”

✰ he fucks you multiple times that night the bed under you soaked with your mixed cum

✰ your left with your legs trembling, throat sore from screaming and your cunt well fucked and stuffed with his cum

✰ after that he doesn’t worry about the comments because he knows he’s the only one that can fuck you this good

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[itoshi-s]

Bllk boys ranking though NNN also i lost bc of ur fics

PLSSSS nonnie im so sorry i made u lose !!! 😭 m happy u enjoyed it so much tho ajfhalkf now let me brainrot over how needy the bllk boys would be during the month of november !

ʜᴏᴡ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ɴɴɴ !

ft: rin, sae, bachira, isagi, ryusei, reo, nagi, aiku, chigiri, kunigami, kaiser, & barou !

cw: nsfw (minors -17 dni!), characters are 18+, fem reader, mentions of rough sex, the boys being switchy, edging, mutual masturbation, sex toys, cannabis !

12. rin - doesn't participate ! ─── yep :( as a rinnie stan myself i know it's disappointing LMAO but he just knows it's unhealthy 😭 and he takes care of himself and his body so much, there's no way. cannot be bothered to take part in such challenges anyway,, they were childish to him at 16 yet alone when he's older sfkfal also is so busy, he'd be a fool to let go of any chance to touch you !!

11. bachira - a day ! ─── no. 1 needy baby ! isn't completely against the idea, actually even tells you he might try it out once you mention it - but he truly forgets all about it as soon as he comes come several hours later .. and sees you looking soooo good. pounces on you within seconds <3 also has an impressive refractory period & stamina too ! can keep going for hours on end and stuff u so full.... it just doesn't end ! he cums for the first time so quick and loses the challenge embarrassingly early but he makes it up to you so well <3

more under the cut !

10. barou - three days ! ─── agrees to your pretty pleading eyes - you want the both of you to try it out so that once the month ends, all hell can break loose ! you know shoei so well, how rough he is on the daily - the thought of him going even further, all desperate and frustrated, makes you giddier than ever. it's of course such a dumb idea to him, but since you're asking him so nicely, he might as well agree..... yeah it only lasts the few days bc he's away on a game and just isn't there to see you and touch you :/ as soon as he's through the front door you can nearly scent the pheromones on him. fucks u into the mattress so hard you're scared of how rough he could be after a whole month !

9. nagi - five days ! ─── he's all about the slow and lazy loving and rarely ever initiates something himself ((you're more than happy to take control though bc just think...... blowing him under the desk while he's gaming???? yeah think bout it)) so you're not at all surprised when he mumbles something about taking part in a challenge the guys talked abt in the group chat . nagi can be a menace with how lazy he is sometimes so you have your toys in handy anyway akfjhsa BUT you honestly would've thought he could last longer ! he might not show his desperation all that often or openly but he definitely is needy <3 ruts into you in your sleep not even a week in. as you wake him and try to scold him playfully , he just pulls you closer with a groan . "'s a pain already," he huffs, "help me out?"

8. isagi - a week and a half ! ─── takes it as a joke at first but figures that it might be fun, actually, and tries it out in the end . he's got very good self control too so is curious how well it'll work when it comes to you and his needs !! it's going pretty smoothly considering how tight his practice schedule is before his next match, BUT it all goes down the drain after said game .. comes back absolutely pumped and high on the goals he scored , on the way he absolutely devoured the other team and controlled the whole field - there's no other way to unwind than to take it out on u <3 it's the only way he knows ! is so loud once he finally takes u & makes u praise him so much ! loves to hear he's your best boy n how good he is to u <3 praise kink yoichi goes brr (yes i am still thinking about the thirst moshi ((@/saetoshis)) did !! its canon i confirm)

7. kunigami - two weeks ! ─── he wasn't rly going to take part when he first read about it in the gc but once he mentions it to you and it turns out you're actually excited abt the thought .. he just might take it up akfhf doesn't actually find it all that difficult and only ever realizes that actually you might be the one taking the hit when you openly start begging for him :( comes home to find u on the bed, teary eyed and overstimulated bc it's just been so long , and masturbation isn't all that exciting anymore ever since u have him . please ren, just drop it already. finds the look on ur face so amusing , you're so miffed as if it wasn't your idea in the first place ! quickly wipes the frown off your pretty features and replaces it with crossed eyes and lolled out tongue tho <3

6. reo - two and a half weeks ! ─── you make him do it <3 and the thought is far too thrilling for him to refuse. also...... he's a switch leaning sub anyway so :( does he even have any word in it? no not really. one look from u is all it takes to make him melt ! it drives you insane to see how he just gives a slight whine or a sigh in the mornings, hard cock straining against his boxers but he's such a good boy - of course he listens and doesn't touch himself <3 just gets up and goes on with his day , knowing better. has this haze over his mind and it shows by his glossy eyes or warm hands that start to roam around your body more frequently . you only ever let him drop it when he's nearly in tears ,, it just hurts !!!!! he cannot keep focus on practice or workouts anymore :( the ache in his tummy and boxers too overwhelming. wraps his arms around you from behind as you cook dinner for u two - sturdy chest pressing all against you, hands grabbing at your waist and there's a shaky breath by your ear. please, please i can't take this anymore. you're not that cruel, and end up praising him for being such a good boy for u for the past weeks <3

4. sae - three weeks ! ─── gets annoyed with the way you keep teasing him, even when he comes home from the longest day of practice ever, and thinks that it might actually be the perfect time to teach you a lesson ! tbh sae strikes me as a dom BUT with solid switch tendencies so !! he actually starts to regret his decision like a week and a half in lol. doesn't let it show at all though and keeps his cool,, knowing that it's exactly how to rile you up <3 giving you such humdrum looks it makes you week in the knees. it's until he sees you come out of the shower, a pretty little vibe in hand, cheeks flushed and eyes lidded when he realizes he might not have the upper hand anymore :( knows that he can keep control of his needs if he has to, but it just gets so fucking annoying, even more so when he knows he's the one that came up with it in the first place. is beyond thankful when u unexpectedly finally BEG HIM to just feel him,, and takes you right here in the moment. puts u in a mating press and fucks you silly only to flip you over and make you ride him as the prettiest little sound start to slip out. ngh- yeah, make m'cum, pretty girl. can't think straight no more. ( > ///////////// < ) cums embarrassingly fast like this as well ...... like just a minute or two of you riding him and grabbing at his shoulders or biceps and he's whining so loud. pretty baby is so flustered tho !!!

4. chigiri - three weeks ! ─── PLEASE he's such a tease ! takes up on the challenge when he hears the boys mention it and is kind enough to give you a heads up . is definitelyyyy one of the biggest menaces of them all tho with the way he riles u up so much. knows that the way he brings his hair up into a loose ponytail instantly makes u think of how he does it whenever he's about to eat you out - so he does it right in front of ur eyes, hairtie in his teeth and giving you a sly look ! makes plans with you so that you just have to go to practice with him first,, otherwise you won't make it on time - because he knows how much it turns you on to see him in the zone <3 thinks that he has it all in control until you crawl between his spread legs and give him the prettiest begging eyes, hands already palming at the sturdy muscle of his thighs, threatening to move higher - right where he now feels the dull ache and strain against his shorts. this is unfair, hyo. haven't i been good to you? isn't all that much of a hard dom,, but definitely makes you feel it how it wasn't worth spurring him on :((

3. aiku - three and a half weeks ! ─── same thing that happened with barou,, but this man has much better self control ! it gets him INSANELY hard and fucking insane to think of how you'll be dripping by the very end of this month , pleading him to finally fill you up. doesn't let you touch yourself either, though </3 so that's what it makes it even more fucked up ! he's the one to convince you to it - has to give a little push bc you're just so needy, the thought alone is enough to make your head spin - but knows that you're actually a lil excited yourself when he sees the glint in your eyes ! doesn't try to tease you all that much but pleaseeeeee have u seen this man .. he doesn't even need to try and he gets you SOAKING ! might just bust a nut himself everytime he thinks of how good it'll feel to finally have you once the month's finished. all of his plans go to waste when you end up watching a movie and smoking a blunt together tho ...... it's ridiculous how you're on top of him within SECONDS after the few first hits kjafhaskfh the weed makes you hazy too you end up going for hourssss on end :( in the morning you're smacking him in the head for even giving u the idea to smoke when you both know how horny u two get afterwards ,, maybe it was his unconscious horny self making the decision tho afhakhsaf

1. ryusei - the whole month ! ─── PLSSSS he's so deranged afafalasfa he LOVES edging the both of u. makes sure u know what's about to come days before november even starts lol and makes good use of it,, you don't even have the energy to think about fucking for the first few days of nov when he's railed u so good minutes before midnight hit 😭 is such a tease during the whole month ! would straight up edge you and bring you right up to your high, only to pull away at the very last second and leave you crying so pretty :( is mean about it, but knows it'll be worth it in the end ! looooves mutual masturbation - thinks that he just might fail when he sees u spread out in front of him, panting and moaning so sweetly, BUT ofc he doesn't let neither of you come . scares you with the way he grabs you so rough and fucks you on the literal floor as soon as the date changes to december :0 pls he's so funny i can see him checking the clock both before it starts & ends gives you the absolute best fuck you've ever had your whole life ,, you need to call in sick the next day bc your cervix is so bruised and gives you cramps :(

1. kaiser - the whole month ! ─── does it just to prove a point. you're a brat to him anyway,, so he's sure you can take matters into your own hands for just a month! (it's not like he absolutely adores the iittle attitude of yours and is the one that always spurs you on even further! definitely not ! </3) considering the world cup is coming soon, he's away most of the days anyways, but usually he'd take care of you as soon as he comes back .. this time he only gives you a good night kiss and pulls you close :( no action whatsoever ! as if you didn't exist to him in any sexual form. also doesn't let you touch him even once either - he despises any distractions after all! it makes you want to cry with desperation cause your own touch just isn't enough - it's a whole other experience to have him manhandling u around and making u do the work to please him ! he takes you to the world cup with him as well,, since he doesn't want u to be lonely ((and actually wants u there with him </3)) so you're extremely fucked . seeing him absolutely trashed and exhausted after a match ?? watching from the first row stands as he absolutely demolishes the field ?? he couldn't get any hotter than he is during the games and u know it :( you end up nearly crying when he finally allows you to touch him , thank him thru the tears and he makes you come in like mere minutes :( won't ever admit that this is the hardest he's ever been lmaoo

© itoshi-s. do not plagiarize, repost as your own or mention on other sm platforms.

[pashminalamb]

𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓

୨⍣୧｡ 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : 𝐀 𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 '𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭.' 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝟐

୨⍣୧｡ 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐍𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨, 𝐀𝐢𝐤𝐮 𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐞

୨⍣୧｡ 𝐖𝐜 : 𝟔.𝟗𝐤

୨⍣୧｡ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝; 𝐢𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫.

୨⍣୧｡ 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 : 𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬

୨⍣୧｡ (𝐀/𝐍) : 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠. 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝!

୨⍣୧｡ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 : 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐢𝐤𝐮, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐢𝐤𝐮, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐚𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 : 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝.

୨⍣୧｡ 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 

୨⍣୧｡ 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 : @𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬-𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲.

𝐍𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨

'Miffy.'

'Hm?' 'Sweet little bunny.' 'Miffy.'

' ‘S that?' 

'Miffy, miffy, miffy, run!' you exclaimed, pouncing on Nagi, fingers set to work as you tickled his sides, making him squirm. That was probably the most beautiful laugh you had ever heard, his voice echoing through the walls of your shared bedroom after his nap. 

A memory that seemed so long ago. 

“How long do you plan on staying here?” 

You didn’t answer, turning to face the back of the cushion. Anri sighed, walking over to the sofa and sitting on the empty space beside you. 

“You know that you have to talk to him right?” “There’s no point.” “But-” “There’s no point, Anri. He made it clear. I’m like rocks in his shoe and I’m dragging him down. He doesn’t need me for his success, all he needs are his legs. And he’s also starting to get tired of me.” you drawled. 

You had crashed over at Anri’s place three days ago, not a single text or phone call from him. Showed how much he cared. 

Anri’s company had helped as you sobbed over Soba with her hand patting your back, assuring you that he hadn’t meant what he said and maybe he was overworked, but her words of assurance had turned into false hope with the coming of day two and no sign of communication. It was currently day three and there were still no signs of Nagi, checking your contact. 

“Active 20 minutes ago.” The chances of him wanting to talk seemed slim and neither did you initiate conversations with him. It seemed like it was time to go on a house hunt. 

Nagi stared at the name tag of his game character on screen. “Miffy.” His nickname. 

‘You know… you remind me of something or someone when your mouth is like that…’ you trailed, holding your chin in thought. After pondering over the thought for a bit, you remembered, humming the theme song. 

‘Miffy, miffy, miffy run!’ you sang, making Nagi confused. ‘You seem to be singing a horror song quite sweetly.’ he remarked, making you scoff. 

‘It’s miffy the rabbit. Look.’ you said, pulling out your phone to show him the image and then compare it one of his own. 

‘That’s not a very nice thing to say.’ Nagi said, snatching your phone out of your hands. ‘If you call me miffy, then you’re Annabelle like that creepy doll.’ he said. Belle for short; belle meant beautiful but you didn’t need to know that. 

When was the last time he had called you that or had even been called ‘miff’, ‘miffs’ or ‘Miffy’? The first day, Nagi was heated, not bothering to ponder over what he said, walking back to his laptop right after he had the argument with you. Day two Nagi didn’t seem to miss you in the morning either, going about his usual routine. It was when the dusk came that he had begun to realize how lonely he had become, his eyes constantly watching the clock, the time coming close to ten thirty in the night when he knew you’d come home. 

But you never did. 

Dinner was lonely, the scraping of his chopsticks against the plate was the only sound to keep him company along with sounds that came from the laptop; washing the plates after, his body waiting for the hugs you would give him from behind while he splashed water on the cutlery. 

Being in bed was lonely; his body missing the warmth of yours or the way you curled into him, your legs entwining with his, not to move as the two of you slept soundly for hours, even admiring each other when you were awake, his hands caressing you softly as he would leave soft kisses on your face while you would do the same. 

Morning came. 

“Belle, Can you shut the curtains?” 

But you weren’t there, his mouth betraying him. The same mouth that uttered the words, 

You’re like the rocks in my shoe and you’re starting to drag me down. I’m so tired of you. 

He said that didn’t he; not caring for the gravity it held or how much it could shatter everything the two of you had built. Why did he even say it? Maybe he wasn’t thinking straight or it was the moment of anger for everything to be handled, the boiling of the pot, the details of the match he was watching, the absolute focus that he needed to zero in to understand what was going on… there were many excuses for what he did, but it wouldn’t bring you back would it? Practices seemed the same, but he never felt the comfort he needed from his teammates; giving him a pat on the back when he had played well on the field or being tackled in a sweaty hug when they had won. 

He missed your scent. 

He missed you.  He missed everything you had to give him, now breaking through the surface of the things he had taken for granted. It was on the dusk of the third day he had finally snapped. He couldn’t take it anymore; the silence, the loneliness or the racing of his heart when he would watch the time hoping to hear the opening of the front door as you walked in only to be disappointed when there was not a sound of a shoe being dropped or the clicking of the door in place with your footsteps to follow. Grabbing his coat, he picked up his phone from the coffee table, scrolling to Anri’s contact. 

You had to be there. Walking out of the lobby of the building, Seishiro walked towards his car, revving up the engine. “Hello?” “Anri. Are they there?” 

Looking back at you as you held the warm mug between your hands while staring at the window into the skyline playing music through your headphones, Anri covered the phone whispering into the phone. “Yes.” “Good. I’m gonna be there in another fifteen minutes.” he said, his hand on the driving wheel. “Keep the door open.” he said abruptly, throwing his phone into the backseat of the car. 

He had to see you. His belle. 

Pulling into the parking lot, he wasted no time, pressing the button of the elevator, foot tapping in frustration as he watched the numbers descend as it finally arrived at the ground floor. It made him no less frustrated when he saw the numbers rising towards Anri’s house. Damn Anri just had to get the condo on the topmost floor. Seishiro ran as soon as the elevator door opened, wanting nothing more than to hold you in his arms again, hands reaching the doorframe of the open door. Taking deep breaths he moved towards the living room. You were there. Headphones on your ears, a warm mug in your hands engulfed in a large sweater as you stared at the street below you. 

Seishiro knew that music was a way to drown your sorrow, blocking out the noises around you to give you a space of your own, where no one could touch you. 

Had he put you through that much pain, not bothering to console you or apologize for what he did? Looking to the side, he watched as Anri gave him a reassuring nod. 

He could fix this. 

Laying a gentle hand on your shoulder, he felt you go stiff. You knew that touch. Turning your head slowly, you watched as Seishiro stared at you, eyes tired and lips letting out soft breaths, taking the headphones from your ears.

He felt like he could breathe again, resting his forehead against yours, his palms laying open against your cheeks. You dragged your fingertips around his wrists, the pads of it digging into the flesh of it. You hadn’t forgotten what he said. Pressing his forehead to yours, he knew what you wanted to say without the words escaping you. 

Laying a kiss on the tip of your nose, he pulled his face away from yours, gray eyes staring into yours, your eyes on his lips mouthing the words. “I know.” “I’m sorry.” 

“I’m so sorry, belle.” he said, his hands dragging from your cheeks to the side of your neck, feeling your pulse, proceeding to the middle of your back and pulling you into him, feeling the whole of you against him. Nuzzling his head into the shoulder of your sweater, he took a deep breath, the scent of you. Home. 

“You really hurt me, you know that?” you said, hands pulling at the collar of his coat. “I really want you to feel how much you hurt but I can’t do that to you.” clenching the material of his coat into your fists. 

Even if he had hurt you, you didn’t hold any malice against him. You could have done many things from shouting the words of his failure that you witnessed when you watched him play on the field, digging into old wounds. But you didn’t. This isn't a sign of weakness. It was a sign of strength and patience along with the hope that you were willing to mend things even if he had caused damage to it.  

“I know,” he said, running his hands through your hair. “I’m sorry.” “I was… alone.” 

‘So was I.’

“Am I really the stones in your shoes dragging you down?” Nagi knew the answer to that question. Three days were spent searching what you were to him, the question you asked shaking everything the two of you stood for. Taking your face into his hands, he pulled away from you, staring into your eyes with nothing but affection as his thumb stroked along your cheek, your glazed eyes that had tears pooling on the corner of your lash line. 

He knew the answer. 

“You’re my wings, belle. Even when I’m on the field. You make me soar.” 

Sweet words were never Nagi’s forté, but he knew that if he was going to have you, he needed more than that. Nodding, he got on his knees, looking up at you. “It’s been three days (y/n). I… I know what kind of a person I am. I haven’t had to work for anything really… just. I’ve always had it. And at times I take things for granted even if that isn’t my intention. But… It looks like I pushed it too far this time. And I know I did. Just… come back to our apartment. It doesn’t seem the same without you and I don’t think I can sleep another night alone. I can’t keep touching the sheets or look around to see if you’re there. I… I’m tired (y/n).” Seishiro said, hands taking yours as he looked up at you. 

He was just as tired as you. Being one of the best on the field needed a right mindset; the lack of emotional and physical affection taking a toll on him. Seishiro had learnt that touch was one of the most important forms of communication; a way to assure someone, reminding the times when you would squeeze his shoulder eased his burdens, the way you would wipe away food from his face when he was eating, the time you would wash his back when he was tired from practice. 

He missed it. 

Kneeling down, you joined him on the floor, your hands cupping his, giving an assuring squeeze. 

“Let’s go home, Miffy.” Nagi’s eyes widened at the pet name, yet his gaze softened at the fondness of it. Reaching home, Seishiro never let go of you, dragging you into the bath, letting the comfort of the hot water surround the both of you, the hot liquid washing the sorrow his words away as it ran down your body; while the water washed away the feeling of emptiness Nagi felt when you weren’t around, hands clinging to your naked body, feeling your raw form against him as he leaned on the wall behind.

Dinner was quiet, with Seishiro watching you put every morsel into your mouth; not blinking for a minute, afraid that the moment would be lost if he closed his eyes. Taking a piece of food between your chopsticks you held it up to his lips. 

“Eat.” 

With the coming of the night, you could feel Seishiro toss and turn, hand reaching out to your side of the bed, patting down your face in your sleep to make sure you were there. Sighing, you turned over to his side, hugging him from behind while he did the same, curling his body into you. 

He felt safe and finally at home. 

𝐀𝐢𝐤𝐮 𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫

Aiku held up the picture for what seemed the longest time cuts on his fingers, the blood seeping into the corner of the photograph. He remembered the time he had taken that picture. 

“With that kind of staring, you sure you’re not trying to burn a hole into their bathing suits? Then again you’d like that wouldn’t you, perv.” you scoffed, lifting a hand to cover the glare of the sun. 

“I came here to spend time with you, not my fault that I just so happened to be here and there are girls in bathing suits here as well…” he said, with a playful push. 

“Tch. Why am I even dating you?” “Because I’m special, obviously.” “I wonder why… I didn’t run out of olive oil.” you said, snickering. 

“Oh you think that’s funny?” he said, grabbing you and placing you on his lap. He playfully bit the side of your cheek, making you laugh. Taking out his phone, he had captured the moment, making sure to use it for later, printing the photo and using it when he moved into the penthouse.

“Olive oil.” He turned to look at you. Lifting your hands to make a heart you teased him. 

“Olive you.” earning a sigh and an eye roll from him. 

“You know there’s the Olive theory?” “I wonder when you’re going to run out of olive jokes.” he commented, setting his feet on top of the coffee table. 

“There’ll be many as long as you’re around me you know?” 

The olive theory; Oliver hated Olives and you loved them, and that’s what made the perfect relationship. A relationship that went to ruin because of him. 

“Bambi…” he murmured, stroking the side of the picture that had your face in it. Oliver never had a stable person in his life. Sure, there were his parents, and his teammates, but there wasn’t a person who lasted long enough to be called his own; dating around only for the purpose of fame or the motive of finding further relations given that he was a football player, maybe you were one of the people that held a significant place in his life. 

Oliver watched as you drove away into the night from the balcony, the gentle breeze blowing through his hair, the penthouse now empty and the photoframe broken with pieces of glass loose on the floor. He walked over to it, picking up the frame, fingers digging into the smaller pieces of glass, leaving light cuts on his fingers as picked up the picture. 

The two of you seemed so happy that day, the picture reminding him of more memories he had made with you. 

Mirror in the front, you sat beside him, painting the dye into his hair. Rather than getting it done by his usual hairstylist, he had insisted on you doing it, wanting to promote the notion of getting into ‘couple goals.’ taking a picture of you while you worked for keeps sake. Washing his hair out and shaking all the water off on you to make you squeal. Coming home from practices, he would test your patience, laying on top of you when he reeked of sweat while you were comfortable watching television, only to be dragged into the shower when he insisted you take a bath with him. 

Oliver felt calm when you washed his hair, your fingertips lightly scratching his scalp, the soft tugs of his hair as he groaned from the relaxation he felt, hands coming to the temples of his head to rub lines into his eyebrows and under his eyes including the massages you would give him before bed, acute pressure under his feet and pressing on his calves. 

He would run faster and better the next day, body feeling light and healthy on the field. 

To show his gratefulness all he did was appear drunk and create messes for you to clean; not giving you attention in weeks. You just gave and gave didn’t you? And all he did was take, not bothering to ask or give you something back in return. You were satisfied with his kisses and his performance on the field. Unlike his previous exes, you weren’t demanding on dates, instead making memories with him at home when he was tired from the days activities of being captain and being a defender. 

Japan had its defender in a single piece because of you. 

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he scrolled to your contact. “Bambi.” 

“You’re a lot like Bambi.” “I would say I’m a lot like Thumper.” “No. You’re like Bambi.” “Why?” 

“Because you’re always prancing around like some young fawn, stumbling over your feet. Never sit still.” or maybe it was because of your doe eyes that he had named you that. 

Tapping on the contact, the phone rang a few times, until it went silent. You weren’t responding to him. 

He tried sending you texts, none of them were seen, only left on delivery. Time seemed to be going slow for Aiku, watching as the minute ticked by on his phone the numbers changing on the screen. Time went so painfully slow that he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

You weren’t going to respond to him on chats? That was fine. Maybe you’ll respond to him when he makes it to social media, clicking a picture of his hand which had been cut, caption : Hurt. By morning, his dms were flooded, 

‘Omg! You should have that checked!’ ‘How did this happen to you?’ 

‘Need me to take care of it, handsome ;o ?’ 

None of them were from you; the words he said setting in as night came and the bed was lonely. 

‘You know that you’re replaceable right? It’s not like I’m running out of options anytime soon.’ Options… the word weighing heavy on his tongue. 

You weren’t a choice, you were an option. 

A demeaning word for someone who had taken care of him in all the kind ways possible wasn’t it? 

Options were the people who had thrown themselves on him; smothering him with the love he didn’t need or want. What he wanted was different; respect, patience and affection. A patience that had run thin because of his actions.

It wasn’t difficult for Oliver to replace a person, he had done that many times before. But could he erase the memories that he had made with you and replace it with someone else? ‘Olive Oil.’ 

‘Olive you.’ 

‘Olive theory.’ 

He couldn’t. He couldn’t even if he tried. 

The next evening and night, Oliver continued to publish stories on his page, captioned with various things that reminded him about the two of you. 

Taking long walks on the beach alone with the picture of the waves; caption : ‘Olive you.’

Long nights on the couch with a disney marathon in the background : ‘Thumper doesn’t suit you.’ 

By day three, Oliver was tired, the routine he had became a chore and time went by slowly. So painfully slow. Even things he enjoyed doing seemed mundane. ‘When will you come back?’ 

“Hey, did you check Aiku’s story?” Looking from the couch to Otoya, you watched as he stared down at his phone, eyebrows furrowed. 

“No, why?” 

There were words that he had said to you, but the fact that Eita had his expression of seriousness made you worried. 

“He cut his hand. Look.” he said, showing the phone to you. Taking a screenshot of it, you zoomed in on the picture. He cleaned up the glass.

That idiot. Why did he even lift that photo frame from the bin? 

Turning to face the window from your bed, you couldn’t sleep. Had he been taking care of himself? Did he eat well? Was he sleeping alright? 

No. You wouldn't worry about him. He probably had someone better to take care of him. He had maybe even moved on, forgetting about you… 

It wouldn’t hurt to drop something off by the penthouse would it? Deciding to grab your car keys, your shoulders screaming from the pain of you slogging over the computer at work for ten hours in a row, you were tired. Yet your heart wouldn’t leave you alone.

“Thank you and come again!” the attendant said as you left the shop, the package contained a pair of tweezers, disinfectant, gauze and cotton. Did that dumbass even bother cleaning his wounds? He would have to deal with it on his own. Pressing the elevator button for the penthouse, you stood near the glass watching as the height between you and the ground grew larger until the soft ding of the lift made you walk out. Even if the argument seemed two days ago, it seemed like time had passed a lot longer; making you miss your second home. Hanging the bag on the handle of the door, you were about to leave when you saw the lift doors open, revealing a very tired Oliver. Heterochromatic eyes snapped to yours, a look of relief washing over his features, as he dropped his duffel bag. Swallowing you were about to move towards the elevator when he moved to block you. 

“Move.” He didn’t. “I said, move.” He wouldn’t. 

“I said, move Aiku!” you said, pushing him. 

He couldn’t; arms coming around to hug you as you tried to break away from his grip. 

“Let go of me.” 

He can’t. “You said I was replaceable right? You don’t need me right? Then let go of me already.” the pain you held in for days coming out of your system in the form of words of agony and tears, hands pawing at his jersey as he pulled you close to him. You cried as he held you to his chest, his fingers digging into your back, holding you close to him. 

You were in his arms. You were safe, but broken with his words. 

He couldn’t stay away from you any longer, that would be a sentence longer to his loneliness and miserability. He missed you.

“Stay, Bambi.” The nickname made you whimper, memories of the time he had called you coming back to you. 

‘You prance around like a fawn.’ 

‘You’re so weird. You really like the crunchy sound that my beard makes when you rub your palm against it?’ 

“Why’d you say it?” you asked in a broken voice. 

Why do people say anything? Oliver had been through situations like this before, his ex throwing water in his face or slapping him when they walked out of the door. Oliver was always done with them after moving to meet the next person. 

“It’s a habit.” he said softly. “Everytime a fight breaks out, I’ve always watched people leave through that door, never wanting to come back; neither did I go in search of them. You were the first to come back, not demanding anything but just… to make sure that I was doing alright. I’m not fine without you. And I… I…” words dying in his throat as his grip around you tightening if not harder, squeezing you like a snake. He hadn’t had anything like this before. 

“You know that you can have a tv star or a supermodel right?’ you asked in a tiny voice. “What am I compared to that?” 

Hands digging into the tresses of your hair, Oliver pushed you into his shoulder, the tip of his nose burning from the tears that he held back. He couldn’t let them fall, they didn’t deserve to. Not after he had the weight of what he said on his shoulders. Making amends was never his strong point but he had to try if he wanted you. And he did. 

“Much more. So much more. You hold the sun and stars for me, (y/n). I can’t deal with every dragging day if you’re not here. I can’t take care of myself… and I know that… that’s not enough to make you stay… but I really want you to. I can’t promise a change overnight… but if you’re here with me… It's everything I want to have… and need… and live with. ”

His shoulders shaking from the words, feeling your arms letting go of his shirt, he felt his heart stop; your hands coming to his face, pulling him away from you. Heterochromatic eyes staring into yours, tinged with red and dark circles to accompany them. The escape of a tear made you wipe it away with your thumb. 

“Let’s get inside. We’ll deal with this in the morning.” 

Oliver slept soundly after what felt like ages, waking up in the middle of the night to make sure you were next to him and didn’t disappear, yet you were there, running your fingers on the side of his face, as he nuzzled into your throat, giving him a soft kiss on the head. 

Early hours of the morning, Oliver woke up once more; watching your still figure in the darkness as he blinked, your arms stretched out in the space that was between the both of you. 

It wasn’t good enough. Throwing the sheets off him, Oliver moved around the bed, coming behind you. Moving you over to his side of the mattress, he took the space behind you, laying a soft kiss to the back of your neck, arms coming under your neck and over your belly while he tucked his knees under yours, sleeping the rest of the dawn away, waiting to see your open eyes when the sun poured in. 

You were here in his arms and it was everything he wanted. 

𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐞

“I packed up my stuff. There was nothing much to begin with anyway. I’ve left the key on the table before leaving cause I know you have the other one to open the door. Don’t push people that try to come close to you, Sae. Not everyone is an ill wisher. I’ll uh… yeah that’s all I have to say, even if you’re sleeping considering it's midnight there. Bye Ariel.

Love, 

(y/n).” 

Sae had stared at that message for over five days, the words replaying in his head even when he kicked the ball. Rather than feeling the plight of the goal he scored or the exhilarating adrenaline flow through his body, he pondered over the words of the last message you had sent him. 

Did you pick up your clothes from the hamper? They weren’t washed were they? Then again, you sent that text a day ago and you might as well have moved out. 

DId you take your stupid book along with you? The one that you always left on the coffee table when he came home? Thinking about the synopsis of it, it was about a dying old man and his student… teaching him the ways of life. Why did you even read these kinds of books? The answer now laid bare before him. 

‘Don’t push people that try to come close to you, Sae. Not everyone is an ill wisher.’

‘I don’t need to hear that from a person who has bitter relations with his own brother due to his own selfishness.’ 

Sae scoffed at the thought the next day, Selfishness? He had given you a place to stay, opening his home to you. Was that called being selfish? He had stocked food for you in the cabinet, making sure you didn’t go hungry while he was in France. In what way was that selfish? He had his own reasons for being bitter towards his brother, but he never did make amends with him, their way of communication being that of rough language when they played each other on the field until either one of them ended up with a yellow or a red card. 

But he was the older one wasn’t he? He was the one responsible for his brother if their parents weren’t there, since he would be the only one Rin would have as a family. 

Maybe your words did hold a deeper meaning. 

The second day, he decided to do something that he hadn’t done before. 

Calling up Rin. 

“Hello?” Sae didn’t find the words in him, biting his lip. “Hello?” Why did he even call him up? What did he think would work? To patch things up with his younger brother? That was a train he missed a long time ago. 

“Huh…” 

The train that would always arrive at his station because it was home. “Rin.” The ends of the phones of the brothers became silent, neither one not knowing what to speak but each comforted by the presence of each. Maybe they could start with closure, mending torn cloths of their relationship with a sewing needle and a thread. 

“How have you been?” “It's always busy in the world of a footballer and you know that. Why did you call?” 

He got straight to the point didn’t he. Staring at the early hours of dawn, Sae let the silence follow, filled with the chirping of morning birds. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

It had been the case the last time you had spoken to him and when he read the last message you sent. 

“It’ll be fine.” Sae’s eyes widened at the words, expecting Rin to blame the problem on him. It was his problem wasn’t it? Why would his little brother even bother looking into it. Words of comfort hadn’t been exchanged with them for a very long time, the bonds they built as children withering away when they became adults, deteriorating further when they would compete against each other. 

“Don’t you spite me?” Sae asked, gripping his phone tightly. 

“Something serious must have happened for you to call me. If it weren’t for me it would be your friends if you had any. Family is usually the last resort or turned to during desperate times. And you’re my older brother, for the sake of our parents, we would have to get along well sooner or later. Even if I don’t like you or spite you, I wouldn’t turn you away. Even I have some dignity to spare.” Rin said. 

Sae couldn’t explain the feeling that overcame him, his eyes pooling with tears. 

Not everyone is an ill wisher. 

Not everyone would wish misfortune to another.

The third day called for relaxation with Sae settling on the activity of walking down the streets of Paris. The night was lit up with street lamps and couples walked on the street while Sae had nothing except his pockets to put his hands in, fumbling with the room key and wallet that was in it. Stopping by a bookshop he found the face of a book that reminded him of you. 

‘The little mermaid - Hans Christian Anderson.’ 

He was supposed to pass by the store, not bothering over the book yet he found himself exchanging the book for money, taking the package with him to his room. Unlike the movies, the little mermaid was not a happy story; with her jumping into the ocean as the prince and his bride stared at the foam she had turned into. 

Tossing the book aside, Sae was left alone to his thoughts. 

‘Stupid thing should have just plunged the knife into the prince’s heart.’ 

But she couldn’t… she loved him. How could she possibly harm a loved one in his sleep while he muttered the name of his bride who was sleeping next to him? She would rather choose her own pain and sorrow rather than lead an empty life knowing what she did. 

A perfect yet sad ending that captured her suffering and the naivety of the prince. 

She was selfless, suffering with the pain of her human legs each time she walked, growing closer to the prince day by day only for him to fall in love with another girl from a temple, who he believed saved him during the night of the shipwreck when it was actually the same mermaid who had dragged him to shore. Selfless enough to give away her voice so that she could no longer sing or talk, selfless enough to not stab him, selfless enough to make sacrifices for him as the prince watched her turn to foam with his bride. 

You were Ariel weren’t you? By the fourth day, Sae couldn’t stop staring at his phone, his body ready to pounce over any question that came. 

‘Do you have your bags packed?’ 

‘Did you make sure to take a toothbrush?’ 

‘Did you get everything you need?’ 

‘Make sure to have your ticket on you.’ 

‘Stay safe and have a great flight. I’ll see you soon Ariel.’ 

The day had passed and the night had arrived, yet there was not a single text from you. Sae knew the consequences of his words, going the extra mile to assume the worst about you when you had tried to make his living easy. 

‘If you want to be the best, you can’t have any distractions, Itoshi. People come and go and this one is like no other. You are young on a fresh pair of legs that can bring a lot of potential out of you and work on the field. Put it to good use.’ were the words of his coach. And like any young mind the first ones to take the blame were the ones who were too close, with close being you; venomous words reaching into the roots of your relationship and shaking it to pieces till nothing was left. 

It was the morning of the fifth day and Sae was ready to leave, his bags packed as he closed the door to the room. 

The flight was long and tiring, making him want to reach home faster and hit the hay. Upon arriving in the airport, he went out of the gates, his eyes unconsciously searching for you. You weren’t there. Sighing he was dropped home, mind going into the setting of finding you with your book, turning over a page as you sat with socks on the sofa, only to turn on the lights to the dim room and the sofa empty with your book gone from the coffee table. The photographs of the two of you were gone from the wall, clothes missing, along with your laptop and papers among other belongings. Going to the bathroom, he felt the strings of his heart pull at the sight of the single toothbrush with yours missing; a strong reminder that you were gone and he was alone. 

‘Why did you say those words, Ariel?’ 

‘Because I want to be the best.’ 

‘Do I not want the best for you either?’ 

‘It's not the same thing.’ 

‘And what if it is?’ 

‘How?’ 

‘I want nothing but the best for you Sae. I never gave you the option of wanting football or me. If you wanted to dedicate yourself to the game you love so much, I would have stood by you. But you didn’t want to and look where we are now. Why do you want to ruin things that are going good for you? We’ve had minor issues, yeah… but it never came to one of us leaving. But if it makes you feel better, then maybe I should.’ you said, taking a step back. 

‘What are you doing?’ Sae asked, a hand reaching out to you but not touching you. 

‘Where are you going?’ 

You said nothing, as pieces of you started disappearing while he screamed. 

Sae woke up in the middle of the night, sweat soaking his shirt, hands reaching over to your side of the bed only to find it empty. 

Staring at the white neon digits of the clock it read, two thirty in the morning. Throwing the sheets of his body, Sae wore his coat, grabbing the keys of his car and driving to your apartment. 

Hearing the rapid knocking of your door along with the sounds of the doorbell, you waddled over to the living room, yawning with half shut eyes. Looking through the peephole, you were surprised to see Sae, pacing around shortly before raising his clenched hand to bang the door again. Worried that the neighbors might hear, if not already, you opened the door, causing him to stumble in; staring at you with his green eyes. 

Sighing you sat on the sofa while he stood in silence.

“Ariel didn’t live happily ever after with Eric. She died in the sea…turning into foam while he and his bride watched over her.” “Did you come over to my place close to three in the morning just to tell me the story of the little mermaid that was written in the eighteen hundreds?” you asked, raising an eyebrow to him. “The last time I checked, you didn’t want or need me. Why are you here?” you said, walking to the kitchen as he followed you. Opening the cabinet you took out the coffee powder and kept a kettle to boil as Sae circled you to snatch it away from your hands. 

“You know better than to drink this,” he said. 

Snatching it back from him, you bit back. 

“If I need my sanity to listen to you at three in the morning, I am going to need this.” 

Holding your hand against the counter as he placed his other on the platform. “Don’t.” 

Please. 

“What is going on Sae? First you say that you don’t want or need me and now you’re here three in the morning, fighting over coffee. What has been happening with you lately?” you asked, setting down the bottle of coffee gently on the kitchen platform as his hand became more gentle on your wrist while the other pushed him away, wanting to keep some space between the two of you; the hand which Sae placed his other on, stopping you from putting any distance. 

“You were right.” he said; the words, making you look at him in confusion. 

“Not everyone is an ill wisher.” 

Tears pooling in his green eyes that looked exhausted and in need of sleep; 

“I am selfish, aren’t I?” he asked, eyes looking into yours for answers. 

You said nothing, sighing through your nose. 

“It seems like you learned.” Sae said nothing, resting his head against your shoulder, his tears smearing onto the fabric of your shirt while his hands settled at your waist. It had been long since he had you in his arms. 

“This doesn’t make things alright but it can wait. We need sleep. You can have the bed and I’ll take the sofa.” you said, taking his arms off you, as you walked towards the closet to grab extra bedding and blankets, settling into the cushions of the sofa while Sae watched you. 

Waking up in the middle of the night, you were being carried into the other room. You dared not move, not wanting to give away the fact that you were awake. 

“I know you’re awake.” It was pointless to fool him wasn’t it? Might as well just skip to the point then. 

“Why did you say those things?” you asked, turning to him as he settled on the opposite side of you, his sweat drenched shirt off and replaced with one of yours. 

“It's something that my coach said.” 

“What changed?” 

Reaching a hand across, he stroked your cheek, talking about the time he had in Paris, calling Rin and realizing the words he said to you; body inching closer to you on the discussion of his nightmare that had happened an hour or two prior. 

“I can’t take back what I said… and I’m aware of that. But… if I can learn to be a better human being… it can only be with you. And that’s another reason to live for, apart from football. I don’t… want to be confined to my old self, (y/n). I want to evolve… I don’t want to be the same boy who lived in spite when I went to Spain.” he said, his resolve crumbling before as the two of you laid in bed. You shifted your body closer to him, pulling his head into your chest as his body shook from the pain of the memories that had made him soar to heights but at the cost of more than what he had bargained for; your words becoming more crystal clear to him with every new emotion he had experienced in the past week. Moving towards your phone, you played a song, placing an earphone into Sae’s ear and the other in yours, tapping his back according to the beat until he fell asleep. 

‘I’m here.’

‘You’re here.’  

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ 

Nuzzling into your chest, placing a kiss over your collarbone as an apology, with you returning the gesture with a nuzzle into his hair, smelling the scent of him made you realize how much you had missed him, smiling into it. 

He came back. 

And he wasn’t going to leave. He didn’t; even as the morning arrived, hugging you close to his chest even when you complained about getting out of bed on a workday, the morning passed with more hours of sleep as he traced the lines on your face while you held onto his wrist rubbing the tip of your nose into the expanse of his palm. It was warm. 

This was all he ever needed and wanted. 

[megu-nya]

★·.·´ BODY LIKE THAT AIN'T A SNACK, IT A FEAST `·.·★

★ ¦ anon asked: okay but the bll character(s) (your choice) with reader who doesn’t seem very sex driven (like interested etc.) but has actually like very high libido and could go literal rounds without having enough? and the character(s) are like “huh?” cause they would never expect that

★ ¦ ft: oliver aiku

★ ¦ tw: nsfw :: gn!reader :: riding :: spanking

"Oh well, look at that", he cooed, smirking devilishly, amused by your sudden taking advantage of the situation. Oliver had already come inside of you, having drawn orgasm after orgasm from your body but yet you seemed to want more. You have never seemed to want to go a second round, but now that you did he was more than happy to oblige.

Even more he was happy about the fact that you were the one who initiated the second round, starting to bounce yourself up and down on his semi-hard dick, mewling at the feeling of him growing rock hard again, filling your cunt up like he always did, his seed dripping out of you as you moved your hips, standing him and the sheets beneath you. But at this moment you could care less.

As you went up and down on his cock, all needy and desperate for more pleasure his smirk never faltered. "If I knew you were such a needy little thing I would have done this way earlier", he said, giving his hands behind us head, watching as you struggled to take all of his length on your own, your tired limbs trembling with every movement of yours.

But Oliver didn't even think about helping you. No. You wanted it so now you would have to work for it. "Please, Oli, need your help", you begged, your legs growing more and more tired, making it almost unable for you to move. "Need more. Need your help", you plead, looking at him with your lust hazed eyes, mind clouded by nothing more than wanting to get off on his dick over and over again.

But Oliver didn't let you have your way. As much as he wanted to just fuck your brains out he even more wanted to see you fail at getting yourself off. Something about it made his chest swell with pride, knowing that you're so desperate for him that you can't even do a single thing on your own. "No. If you want it you have to work for it", he said, a sudden harsh slap landing on your ass cheek. He couldn't let you have your way, at least not for now.

2023 © megu-nya — all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, translate, modify or plagiarize in any form.

[sphireath-wisp]

#My Favorite Lipstick

Sypnosis: How do they kiss?

Warnings: I have never experienced those deep heated kisses (only quick ones), not proofread, different from my usual formatting, not individual sections, F! reader is implied maybe, suggestive at some parts?

Featuring: A Variety of characters x GN! reader

QUICK, SWEET, SIMPLE The type of kisses that he steals from you when he wants your attention on him only. He has so much to do today, so would you let him have your eyes on him and him only - even for this short, fleeting moment?

He stops in front of the door, his feet coming to a halt when he lightly grazes his own lips, realizing he had forgotten the thing that keeps him energized throughout the day.

You spot him, completely still accompanied by a stare that tells you he's deep in thought. Just as quickly as you saw him, his head turns to you. That rational part of his mind jerks his hand up to the doorknob, well aware of the time crunch he's in, yet he hesitates to leave.

"Bye-bye honey! Have a good day at practice," You wave with the sweetest grin known to mankind - the smile that was crafted to be too perfect, the smile that greets him home and showers him with butterflies.

His defenses are toppled down, and the grip on the door handle softens as his fingers hover around your cheek. Pushing away those irritatingly silky strands of hair that become an obstacle for him, he leans in for a short kiss that leaves the both of you wanting more.

While he still wanted to give you another - you could tell from his gaze, stuck onto your pretty lips like glue - he had to endure the hellish task of holding himself back.

It'll be fine though, he'll be able to satisfy himself once he gets home and returns to your side.

RIN ITOSHI, Sae Itoshi, Rensuke Kunigami, Shoei Barou, Seishiro Nagi?

FUN, PURE, INNOCENT The type of kisses that is embedded into your daily routine. The ones that don't seem that special brighten up his day nevertheless. The ones that cause giggles and laughter to escape out of the both of you.

He tackles you onto the bed, arms tightening around your waist as he presses kisses onto your belly. No matter how much you yelp and cry that it tickles, he doesn't stop, your laughter becoming the soothing music to ease anything bothering him.

Lips explore your upper body, pressing his soft and heart-filled kisses onto you until he reaches your face. Puppy dog eyes stare back at yours whilst his cheek nonchalantly rests on your chest. Like a cat, he claws his way up, tugging on your shirt once while he continues to cover every inch of your face with his endearments.

Making those dramatic "mwah" sounds whenever he leaves his mark on your skin, he holds the 'mmmm' sound with cold lips against your cheek for what feels like an eternity - and you would exaggeratively wish euphoric moments like this could last an eternity. Covering your face to shield yourself from his 'attacks', you giggle as you notice the apparent pout forming on his face.

His forehead flattens against yours and your pinch his cheeks gently, molding his face into a silly, lighthearted expression that engraves itself into your memory. "I love you," or so he would declare to you, his pupils dilating the moment he heard you repeat the exact words back to him, adoration laced into that siren-like hum of yours.

MEGURU BACHIRA, Reo Mikage, Yoichi Isagi, Hyoma Chigiri, Seishiro Nagi

DEEP, HEATED, FORCEFUL The type of kisses that he expects as a reward for all of his hard work. After a long day, he loves those cute kisses that you pepper onto his face - but he's demanding and knows damn well that he loves that rush in his body when you're aggressive with him.

He pins you to the wall, the loud crash of your body against it passing as if it didn't physically cause you to wince. Well, it's not as if you had any time to focus on the pain when you're stuck in a deep kiss, the satisfaction from receiving such a treat from him washing away any pain inflicted.

How could he not hold back? It had been months since he had seen your precious face and he just had to let loose. You invited him to a secluded corner away from anyone else and that ridiculously smug smirk told him everything he needed to know.

Your hands travel to his hair, pulling at his scalp to give you the limited time needed to breathe before getting to round 2. He doesn't restrain himself either, hands tucking themselves comfortably under your shirt and caressing your back.

Once the both of you stop, you catch your breath, heart still racing in your chest. "We're going to get caught, idiot. Hold back a little." You rub that dark spot on your neck, flustered face scowling at him as if he was scum.

An Iron grip holds your hand, lightly kissing another spot on your shoulder. "You're asking too much out of me, princess." He was still hungry for more, unluckily for you.

Technically, you initiated this, so you better be ready to bear the consequences.

RYUSEI SHIDOU, Micheal Kaiser, Aiku Oliver, Reo Mikage, Shoei Barou, Sae Itoshi(let me dream)

[mitsies]

SNAKEBITES ! ; oliver aiku > a stranger comes into your piercing and tattoo parlour, and it's just your luck that he wants his lips pierced.

it’s a slow day at work.

from your station in the back of your tattoo parlour, you can hear as cheery music filters through the speaker system, muffled, and not much else. there’s no telltale sounds of the door’s bell ringing as a customer walks through, or the enthusiastic voice of the establishment’s receptionist, kenji, scheduling appointments or taking calls over the phone.

you’d expected as much from today— it was, after all, 11 in the morning on a tuesday. most people would be at work doing better things. you pull up your schedule on your phone and see that your next appointment wasn’t until 2pm. standing from your wheeled stool with a sigh and stretch, your eyes gloss over the state of your workspace: everything is just as neat (and drab) as you’ve left it when you’d organised only a few minutes ago.

you’ve owned and worked at your tattoo parlour for the past few years. it was a relatively successful business endeavour, too. slow days were few and far in between. today was an anomaly, you supposed. people usually came from far off places just to access your abilities and services, whether they be tattoos or piercings. it was rather flattering, you supposed, maybe an ego boost you didn’t need. your establishment is still rather small, with only you and a few others as part of the rotating cast of staff. right now, it was just kenji and yourself on shift. kenji was a student with bright, cheery smile and a sun in aries who never failed to sell guests on jewlery or packages. he was young and a joy to talk to, in your humble opinion, which is why you made your way to the building’s lobby.

kenji was sitting on the desk swinging his feet while checking his phone, perking up when he saw you coming. “got bored back there?”

“i guess. not much to do,” you reply, slouching against the desk. kenji laughs. “i like this better than having too much to do.”

“you have too many missing assignments to be saying that.”

he gives you a look. “hey, that was uncalled for.”

“mhm. sure. since i’m your boss and we have nothing better to do, i order you to do your schoolwork for once.”

“you order me?”

“yeah, something like that.” he snorts and hops off the desk, about to retort when the door’s bell jingles and a tall figure walks in. your attention is drawn to him— a tall, broad man with shaggy dark hair and an electrifying smile as he gestures to a sign on the door and asks, “walk-ins are cool, yeah?”

you have an answer for him, but you’re not sure what to say. your mouth feels dry as he surveys you, a crooked grin creasing his eyes in greeting. you should tell him that no, you don’t usually take walk-ins, but kenji cuts in for you.

“yes, for sure! lucky for you, we’ve got a bunch’a openings for t’day.”

you snap your gaze to kenji who grins at you like he didn’t just lie to a customer. again, you open your mouth to say something when you’re cut off again, this time by the stranger: “okay. cool. i’m here for a piercing.”

kenji waves the man over. and at the same time shoos you off. “go back to your little dungeon and get ready— you’ve got a customer,” he whispers in a sing-song tone that makes your face hot with embarrassment. 

“you literally work for me. i should fire you,” you bite back. but kenji’s already turned away to tend to the stranger, leaving you to go out back to your studio, letting the heavy door click shut behind you. you frown. it does look a little bit like a dungeon, with no windows and a lack of prominent lighting. furiously, you busy yourself with reorganising the already organised space as you hear muffled voices and laughter fusing with the music out in the lobby. why did you care so much suddenly?

after a few minutes, you hear a groan as the door is opened again— the man is there again, opening the door. kenji is behind him and he wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively before saying: “they’re the owner, so you’ll be taken care of jus’ fine. i’ll see you out front when y’er done!”

and with that, he leaves the both of you. the stranger lets the door shut behind him and you turn your back, taking a deep breath and channeling your professionalism as best you can. this is made really, really hard because he looks abnormally attractive in the warm lighting of your studio, all sharp lines and sharper smiles.

“you can sit down on the seat there,” you say politely, gesturing to a covered chair in the corner, “did you pick out jewlery with kenji?”

the man nods an affirmative, handing you two silver pieces with emerald embellishments made to resemble fangs at the ends— a set for snakebite piercings. your heart stalls, and stops. you’d be piercing this man’s lips?

you clear your throat and give him your best customer-service smile. “good choice. i love emerald. they’ll go with your eyes.”

he returns your expression and you suddenly feel incredibly weak in the knees. “that was the plan.”

you turn to a countertop and let yourself exhale a deep, silent breath as your heart hammers in your chest as you sanitise the jewlery with alcohol. speaking to him from over your shoulder, you introduce yourself with your name.

“i’m oliver aiku.”

“oliver,” you muse to yourself, “and have you gotten a piercing before?”

“nah. you’re my first time.”

you stiffen. okay.

“starting off with snakebites is brave.”

“do they hurt?”

you turn back to him, thoughtful. “i mean, based on what i’ve heard from  everyone i’ve pierced, they’re not too bad. just.. a little uncomfortable.”

you leave out why because you’d cite different reasons for the discomfort than the ones you should. snakebite piercings are ones that you don’t get to do often, but they require incredible proximity— you’ve got to be close enough to feel their breathing on your hands. this is, usually, not an issue. today might be a day full of exceptions.

oliver and you keep talking and you’re kind of taken aback by how easy conversation is. his charisma bursts at the seams and overflows into you— he has you bringing up old school memories and childhood tales, and laughing hard enough to hurt your ribs. you learn a few things about him: one, that he grew up in sweden. two, he’s a pro-player for japan’’s football team (and how you’ve never heard of him before, you’re not too sure, because a google search later proves his popularity). and three: you’ve kind of got a crush on him.

okay, so maybe that final one is more of a fact about you, but it’s still pertinent. the both of you had just been chatting for the past 20 minutes, long after prep work for the piercing had finished. he’s not only easy on the eyes but an incredible conversationalist. his words leave you wanting more, his smile has your stomach churning. this is not very professional of you.

eventually, you run out of stalling to do. seating yourself on your stool, you steel your nerves and say a prayer as you reach for a long, silver clamp. “okay. you ready for this?”

“as i’ll ever be. have at it.”

to attatch the clamp, which will serve to separate the site of the piercing from the rest of his mouth, you need to put one gloved hand on his jaw. you purse your lips as you slide in close to his face: “open your mouth for me?”

he’s all too compliant and you feel a little bit insane as you move your free hand to pull at his full lower lip, with a hushed, “tell me if it hurts.”

this is far more intimate than you’d anticipated. you can feel his gentle breathing against your hands and the sound of your heartbeat pulses through your ears, merging with the hot rush of blood. the clamp goes down, and you finally pull back to check the positioning, giggling a little at how silly it looks. he gives you an easy, amused expression, voice muffled as he speaks: “do i look good? maybe i should just keep it like this.”

“mhm. you look good.”

“you think?”

“oh, for sure.”

you take the needle, with the jewlery attached,  in your dominant hand and roll your chair back over to him. “this’ll pinch. you can handle that?”

“you kiddin’? i can handle anything you give me.”

okay. okay, okay. it’s okay. this is fine.

gently, with care, you take his jaw in your hand. through your gloves, you feel the warmth beneath his skin and the rough grating of stubble on your palms. you hold hin still as you swiftly slide the needle through the inside of his lip. once it’s in, you slide the clamp off and deftly screw on the jewled ball of the piercing’s end and sit back to admire your work and totally not to regain your bearings.

“one down. you’re halfway there. and you didn’t even flinch. ready for the next one?”

oliver grins, wincing a little at the soreness. “as i’ll ever be.”

if you thought the first piercing was intimate, you were sorely mistaken. because this time, you were going for the side opposite to that of your dominant hand— this meant it required a little more manouvering, a little more proximity, a little more touching. you only feel a little bad, as you let your hands linger on oliver’s face a little too long as you try to adjust the clamp as best you can. the pointer finger of your glove is shiny as you maybe a little unnecessarily fix the placement of the clamp. you wonder where your dignity has run to. 

“you ready?” you ask, meeting his eyes, but with your fingers practically in his mouth the only response he can muster is a nod. the second needle slides in easy as the first, all the while he looks straight on at you.

once it’s in, you slide on the end piece with the understated serpent motif and stand up, stepping back to see your work.

“hm. looks good.” you lie, because it doesn’t look just good, it looks fucking fantastic on him. your heart beats against your ribcage and threatens to leap out your throat if you speak any more, so you simply take the small hand mirror on the countertop and put the clamp away, handing the mirror to oliver. you, for your own sake, can’t watch him as he checks himself out.

he exhales a laugh and your chest tightens. “thank you. this is sick.”

you wave your hand at him bashfully, moreso than you think you’ve ever been. “it’s my job.”

he rises and you realise again just how tall he is. the warm lighting makes his new piercings shine, and you’re breathless. “i guess. and since you’re the professional— is there anything i shouldn’t do with these while they heal?”

you purse your lips. “didn’t kenji tell you everything?”

“nah. he said you would.”

that piece of shit. you think today might be his last day at work here because you might strangle him to death.

“avoid pools or hot tubs, and don’t mess with the piercing too much. don’t take it out, either, and don’t smoke while it’s healing.”

“anything else?”

he meets your eyes with a playful sparkle and you know for certain what he’s alluding to. was he really going to make you say it? 

“and you can kiss people,” you exhale, “just be gentle.”

“being gentle,” he muses, tension palpable in the air, “i don’t suppose that you could show—”

the door slams open. kenji stands, messy dark hair on end and looking quite frankly frazzled. you take a step back from oliver, letting out a breath of relief or disappointment, you couldn’t be sure, as you ask: “kenji? something up?”

“there’s so many people,” he heaves, “so many. so, so many. big line. rush hour.” he’s so out of breath, you move to pat him on the back awkwardly.

“i thought it was a slow day.” glancing out in the hallway, you see a long, long line stacking outside in the small lobby— a typical weekend day ath the parlour, not a sight you expected on a tuesday.

kenji looks traumatised. “me too,” he laments. you sigh, turning back to oliver.

“i can pay and go,” he says, gesturing out front, “i didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.”

“it’s no issue,” you reply a little too quickly. “really. don’t worry about it.”

kenji leaves back to the front desk to check in the next walk-in clients, and you and oliver are left in the studio. picking up and dropping the tools you’ve used in sanitising solution, you rattle off a list of piercing-care instructions.

“saline spray twice a day. you can just use a cotton pad,” you conclude.

“and will i need a check-up or something?”

you blink. “no. unless you want to change the jewlery, you should be fine.”

he shakes his head with a laugh and a grin. “you sure? i think i might need to come back. pick up where we left off.”

oh. oh, okay.

your skin feels so hot as you fumble over your words: “in that case, yeah. i mean, yes. sure. i can see you sometime.”

“perfect. when?”

“friday night? i’m done here at 7.”

you fight the smile growing on your face, and lose miserably as he replies, “perfect. i’m looking forward to it.”

he leaves out the door and you let yourself breathe out, covering your warm cheeks with your hands as you try to erase the cheesy expression. a few minutes later, you receive a text: it’s kenji.

kenji!!!: listen it’s great that u and ur new boyfriend are so happy and all but plwase save me there’s so many people

kenji!!!: ohmy god i think they’re going to stampede me or soemthing SAVW ME

[ more blue lock fics! ] [ home page! ]

remember this post? yeah. i'm insane. anyways live laugh love kenji and... here's the kenji spin-off i guess!

[saekkas]

𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐒

summary: romantically cliche things the boys do when they're in love with you.

includes: isagi, nagi, reo, yukimiya, rin, sae, kunigami, kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.

notes: this might just be the most lovey-dovey thing i've ever written in my life.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍: goes out of his comfort zone, does anything he can so that you're always smiling when with him, makes butterflies erupt every single time he opens his mouth.

kaiser, sae, isagi, karasu

"can't you let me see? we've been doing this for hours!"

his hands are around your face, shielding your vision. you can see nothing but darkness, only small spots of light from the gaps of his fingers. he's been nothing but romantic for the whole day, eager to celebrate your anniversary on a day off. he's taken you to a popular italian place, which he's booked under your name from two months ago, and brought you to a science and art museum that's produced more than a hundred lock screen worthy photos.

all the while keeping his hands around your eyes every time you move onto a new spot. he's determined to make this the best day of your life, and with the way it's going, he's gotten his wish.

"calm down, we're almost there." his voice is right by your ear, tone completely warm as he chuckles at the shiver it brings. "since when were you the impatient one in the relationship?"

"can you blame me? how am i supposed to know you aren't leading me into a trench in the middle of nowhere?" there's only silence, and you can only assume he's grown tired of your whining. "it's a perfectly plausible scenario and you know that. what if-"

"we're here," he says, this time whispering lowly as he stops your movements, placing his chin on your shoulder. "i hope you like it. it's my last present for today."

you blink your eyes when he finally takes away his hand, trying to get used to the onslaught of brightness. you gasp, realizing belatedly that he's taken you to the canopy of your joined apartment. he's taken two chairs from your kitchen, along with a high desk from your work room, and transformed the space into a private space for two.

"this is beautiful. i can't believe you did this for me."

his hands are warm as they trail down your waist, wrapping you snugly against his chest. you can feel the soft breath coming from his mouth, and the telltale signs of a five o'clock shadow as he nuzzles into your neck. "do you like it?"

"i love it. i love you." you stand in silence for a while, taking the time to take everything in. you snap out of your trance like state when he takes your hand, pulling you towards the seats. "thank you. you've completely made my present for you look like trash."

there's a shadow of a smile on his face, bright even under the darkness of the ink blue sky. you'd print it if you could. you'd freeze this moment, this day, so you'll get to experience it forever, in a never-ending loop, if you could.

"two tickets to meet my favorite team is far from trash, but i'll accept the compliment."

that shadow of a smile turns into a grin, and you realize you never want to experience a day without his smile for the rest of your life if you could.

the lights from nearby buildings look and feel as if fireflies, surrounding you in a peaceful hue. his eyes are a different shade today, far brighter than they usually are. his embrace far warmer.

you suppose love does that to the best of people. and you suppose you're lucky to be able to get to experience it with him.

"i have something for you."

you quirk an eyebrow as he leans down to reach for something under his seat. it's rectangular, medium-sized, nothing special looking, and yet your heart's beating against your ribcage, threatening to let loose and engulf him whole.

"i thought this whole set up was supposed to be the last?"

"i lied," he chuckles, handing the object to you with soft eyes. "open it."

the wrapping is shabby at best, and you bite your lip, both endeared and amused by his actions. you tear it gently, gasping when the cover of your favorite book looks back at you. "i..."

the cover feels smooth under your fingers, and you can only choke back a sob when you flip onto the first page, finding his scribbled writing right under the author's autograph. the next pages are similar in different ways, filled with little notes and highlighted words at the edges. his thoughts immortalized for you to read.

"you annotated a book for me?" you sniffle, wiping away the tears before they fall onto the pages. "and got the author to sign it?"

"why are you crying?" he asks out of pure sweetness, nothing but love looking back at you from his eyes. "isn't that what a guy does when he's in love with a girl?"

you only nod, still at a loss of words as he leans down another time, this time placing a cool box on the desk. "gelato?" he asks with a laugh as he places two of your favorite flavored dessert in between you. "can't have my love crying on our special day, can we?"

you learn that the gelato isn't the last surprise either. his last present comes in the form of a ring and a promise made under the night sky.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍: holds every single one of your things, will not let you move a single finger, proudly shows you off as his.

aiku, nagi, kunigami

"i have two hands too, you know?" you laugh, your shoulders shaking as you lean against the apartment door's entrance. "i can bring my own things."

you watch with thinly veiled amusement as he shakes his head with a stubborn frown. his footsteps are heavy, the added weight of all your shopping bags dragging him down slightly. you move slightly to the left, pushing the door open wider so he could enter.

"i'll get you something to drink. hold on," you say with a pointed look before making your way to the kitchen to fetch a water bottle. walking back, you giggle at the sight of him peeking into the paper bags. "here."

the palm of his hands are slightly calloused against the skin of your thighs as he all but drags you onto his lap. the couch sinks under your joined form and you raise an eyebrow when he looks up at you with puppy eyes.

"what?" you ask, slightly suspicious of the pout on his face after the few seconds of silence. "you want something don't you?"

"show me?" his tone is dripping in honey and his hands rub circles on your back as he tries to persuade you. "wanna see my girl all dolled up and pretty."

you sigh at his request, your heart weak at his show of affection. "fine. you better pay attention though."

he hums, nodding his head excitedly as you take the bags and bring them into the bedroom with you, ready for a fashion show.

"i'm not wearing every single one so i'll show you my favorites." the dress you have on is innocent, fun. one you've picked exactly for picnic dates and ice cream runs. it's a baby blue color, white lace trimming your waist with a bow to match. "what do you think?"

his eyes roam from your head down to your feet, and you blink at the silence that coats his answer. "do you not like it?"

he blinks back, as if breaking out of a gaze before he stands, leaning down to press three pecks onto your lips. you watch as he walks back to the couch, tilting your head at the coy smirk on his face. you feel dumbfounded when he waves a hand, motioning for you to try the next one.

the second outfit is far simpler. white top matched with a leather jacket and boots. there's no other sound besides the fan by the edge of the kitchen and his footsteps as he leans in to press another kiss. only two this time.

you snort when you realize when he's doing. if there's anything your boyfriend will do, it's charm you with whatever weird stunt he has up his sleeve. "you are impossible. what is this? your version of america's top model?"

"i don't hear you complaining." he walks back to his seat, watching you with lidded eyes and a small smirk filling his expression. "next one?"

you snort, changing into the last outfit for him to see. this one's far more intimate as you've bought it for special occasions. the dress is a dark maroon, it sinks down to the floor with a plunging neckline that is a wonder to the eyes. you watch as he stiffens, becking you forward with a come-hither motion on his finger.

you sway your hips as you walk, looking at him with a coy smile that he most certainly loves. before you have the chance to lean down, he shoots up, pressing three kisses on your lips, and another on your exposed chest.

his hands wrap around your waist, tilting your chin so that you meet his eyes. "next one."

"that was the last one." you quirk an eyebrow, squinting when he grins. "what?"

"try my clothes. i'll give you full scores for every outfit."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒: gets you anything and everything that reminds him of you, reminds you of your worth every day, charming to the point that your mother wants you to marry him asap.

rin, yukimiya, bachira, reo

"hey, i know you're a big-time pro-athlete now but that doesn't mean you need to spend all your money on me."

your boyfriend has a thing for splurging. he buys things that are almost always useless and insists on gifting them to you with a big shiny bow wrapped around it. he isn't much of a spender for himself, insists on wearing his clothes until they're somehow falling off his body but with you? his pockets are loose, wallet seemingly always filled with credit cards.

an investment for the future, he calls it.

you don't know whether to laugh at the absurdity of his words or cry because this handsomely talented individual actually sees you as part of his future. he's calling you as his future. talk about sweeping a girl off her feet.

"they're pretty. i thought you'd want to see them."

the bouquet that he sent is nothing if not pretty. it's a stunning piece of work, an arrangement of many different kinds of vividly colored flowers wrapped into a huge bundle. it's hefty in your hand and you'd be lying of you said that it isn't a treat for the eyes.

"you could have taken a picture and showed it to me through text, eh?" you walk forward, smelling the flowers in your hand, and carefully place them on the desk to put in a vase later. "you didn't need to ship it all the way from paris."

you watch as the pixelated version boyfriend shrugs, a sweet smile forming on his lips at your words. it's nighttime where he's at, and it shows through the darkness of the hotel window he currently resides in. the video shakes as he holds his phone, moving away from the window and onto a bed.

"do you like it?" he asks, propping a hand behind his head and on a pillow. "the florist recommended that one for you. she said it had a special meaning."

"yeah? tell her she has amazing taste and is very kind if you ever meet her again."

he hums, eyes hazy and laced with sleep. you smile when he tries to stifle a yawn. "you should go to sleep. it's late there, isn't it?"

"it's fine." he yawns like a puppy is your first thought when he does let it out. there's an air of tiredness around him, clearly drained from practice and a match. you giggle when he yawns again, this time stretching his hands above his head like a cat. adorable. "i wanna talk to you for a bit more. i miss you."

you soften at that. "i miss you too. just three more days, right?"

he nods at that, the smile never leaving his face. the smile, you've come to realize, is reserved especially for you. "i told the florist to write a note for you too. is it there?"

you hum, placing the phone against your mug to look for it. you've been too distracted by its beauty that you never noticed the small piece of white paper that's attached to one of the flowers' stems. the first thing that catches your eye is the list of flowers the bouquet is made from and their meaning.

roses; love, warmth. dahlia; eternal love, appreciation, commitment. chrysanthemums; loyalty, happiness, joy. ranunculus; charm and attractiveness. anemones; anticipation.

the second, is the beautiful cursive handwriting that details, "i'll love you until the last one withers."

you look back to your phone, smiling brightly at him. "thank you. this means everything to me." there's an air of happiness that surrounds him at your words, his smile brightening along with yours. there's a glint in his eye that you're suspicious of, yet you don't get to call him out for it.

"i'm glad you like it. i'm gonna head in now. i'll text you in the morning, okay?" he hums, padding from his bed and turning the light off, bathing him in a moonlit glow. "call me when you wake up."

"okay." there's always a bittersweet feeling in saying good night to him, in saying temporary farewells. your shoulders slump slightly and you nod, blowing him a kiss. "night. sweet dreams. i love you."

"i love you too, angel."

the line disconnects after a few minutes of silent staring and you sigh, turning away to find a vase for your newly bought gift. it's only when you're gently placing the flowers in that you realize one's different from the others. you chuckle, holding the fake flower to your chest. picking up your phone, your fingers glide across the screen, sending him a text you hope he'll see when he wakes.

you: who knew you were such a romantic

you: i'll love you forever. thank you. you mean the world to me.

your fingers stop as you take in the flower once more, every single one of its petals has been painted a different color. it's smooth against your hand, and you grin when you lift it to your nose to sniff. it smells like him.

you: send me your hotel address. i'm sending you a gift.

you: me.

[rinhaler]

So Tell Me What You Need

oliver aiku really really likes you ♡

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ yandere!oliver aiku x f!reader

Genre: college!au (++ smut) Notes: thank u 2 @chososdoll for doing gods work with this fic i hated it hehehe Warnings: 18+, serial killer mention, murder mention, weed mention, smoking, stalking ♡, manipulation, dub/noncon, 'just the tip' ♡, coercion, oral (m receiving), cock slapping ♡, facial, creampie ♡, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, etc.) ♡ Words: 7.2k

The body of a young woman was discovered in the early hours of Thursday morning. It’s the third body in the last five months to be found, and an inside source has revealed that this is thought to be a pattern by one killer. The victims are all female and—

Your heart pounds as you shut off the TV in your front room. It’s the last thing you want to hear as the windows reveal the dark night sky outside. You don’t even see the stars above; the light pollution takes that comfort from you. All you can see is rows of apartments opposite to your own, some lit and some dim. Some with funky colours but most are warm white.

And your face flushes with heat as you notice one of the latter have a couple fucking up against a window before you turn away to face your roommate.

She notes your concern, but chooses to smirk and poke fun anyway.

“Maybe it’s your stalker,” she teases you. “You might be next.”

“That’s not funny.” you sigh, storming off to your room. You wince as you look at the abandoned study materials at your desk. You’ve been putting everything off for weeks, but your coursework and exams are the last thing on your mind.

You find yourself pacing around a little before you eventually decide to sit on the edge of your bed. There’s no way you can possibly sleep after hearing that. And your roommate’s poor joke has only made you more paranoid. So, what is there left to do?

Music might help, you think to yourself as you unlock your phone. You can barely do anything as your fingers begin to tremor while you look through your playlists. You’re interrupted, though, as a call from an unknown number fills your screen.

You mask your fear with anger, grunting as you swing open your bedroom door to yell at your friend.

“Stop it, Lacey! I’m going to have nightmares, I’m serious!” you yell. She looks at you, confused. You hold up your phone to show her the incoming call. But her eyes drop to the coffee table, her own phone discarded on top of it in favour of smoking from her bong.

“Answer it.” she urges you.

And you gulp, nodding, sliding the button across the bottom of the touch screen to take the call. You steel yourself, already knowing what’s coming as soon as you speak. It’s the same thing every single time. You don’t say a word, not for a few seconds. There isn’t a sound from either of you as you sit on the couch while your roommate’s eyes follow you.

“Hello?” you say, meekly.

It begins.

The heavy, repetitive breathing that sends a chill down your spine. She looks concerned, now. It’s the first time she’s been present when you’ve received a call. You’d started to suspect she didn’t believe you.

“Who the fuck is this?” she yells, snatching the phone from your hand. Their breathing stutters, it’s barely noticeable but you both pick up on it. It’s enough to make her hang up. “I— you should stay in my room tonight. W-With me.”

“Are you scared?” you ask her, earnestly. She doesn’t respond, but the fact that she’s packing away her drug paraphernalia is answer enough. “Thank you.” you smile, though you leave the room as you do.

You start scrolling through your contacts on instinct, tossing your phone onto your bed as you find the number you’re searching for and put it on loudspeaker as it dials. It rings and rings, and you start to worry you won’t get through. You undress, taking off your clothes from the day to change into your pyjamas.

“Hey you,” he starts. “S’pretty late, baby. Somethin’ wrong?”

“Oliver…” you start, legs buckling at the sound of his voice as you feel a combination of relief and guilt surge through you. You sniff, the pressure of your fear and other underlying emotions doing their best to overwhelm you. “My— The stalker called. Again.” you tell him, and you’re instantly met with a sympathetic coo.

“Do you want me to come over?” he asks. “Or do you wanna come here? I’ll pick you up, princess, s’not a problem.” he continues. You shake your head despite him not being able to see.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Sorry, I was just freaking out. Nice to hear your voice, though…” you smile a little, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Alright. Only if you’re sure.” he speaks, clearing his throat. “I miss you, though. You better let me see that pretty face of yours soon.”

“Okay,” your smile widens. Once again nodding knowing he can’t actually see you right now. “Goodnight Oli.”

“Goodnight, gorgeous.”

Sharing a bed with your roommate helped. You didn’t even mind her snoring, it’s not like you’d expected to get much sleep anyway. You got enough to get you through the day, though. Classes went by without incident, and you didn’t feel yourself wavering at lunchtime like you have been recently.

The calls are unpredictable, you’re always on edge. There’s no specific times or days or even how many times he’ll call.

You walk back to your apartment alone. The winter sucks. It’s not particularly cold, but it’s dark when you get to your classes and then it’s dark again when you leave for the day. You feel like you’re going crazy, and you can’t pretend you aren’t scared of being outside alone when it’s so dark out.

A text notification frightens you enough to almost drop your phone. You don’t even remember turning your phone off silent. Though you can’t help but grin when you see who it’s from.

Oli: Wanna hang out tonight?

You: I’m too behind on my coursework ☹

You: Another time? x

Oli: Okay princess x

You take a deep breath, pocketing your phone as you continue your journey to your apartment. The elevator isn’t empty, but you don’t mind. If anything, you feel a little better to be around people. Your music plays softly through your earphones the whole time, and your anxiety finally begins to dissipate.

Although, it comes flooding back when you get to the door of your apartment.

It’s locked.

And, normally, that would be fine. But Lacey always finishes early on Monday’s. And she’s always home before you get here. Your mind instantly flickers to the phone calls. The stalker.

The news report last night.

Little hands tremble as you search pathetically through your tote bag until you find your keys. The metal clings and clangs as you search for the right one; you jump as they fall from your hands. Eventually, though, the right one is in your grasp and you open the door quickly.

There’s no sign of her. She isn’t smoking in the front room like you expect. You open her bedroom door without knocking, only to discover she isn’t there either. Deep breaths are taken in vain. You try to call her, but there’s no answer.

You: Are you okay?? Call me ASAP

Lacey: I’m fine! I’m at the frat hanging out with Eita 😇

“Oh thank God.” you sigh, all but falling to your knees when you read her reply. Instantly, you can’t help but think about what a slut she is when you think about her failing to tell you her plans because she’s decided to sneak off to ‘hang out’ with her toxic friend with benefits.

Your mind is clear, though your heart is still beating a mile a minute.

Oli: You’re really just gonna study all night? X

You: Thinking about ordering a pizza :P x

Oli: I like pizza you know 🙄x

You: Next time! Promise x

It’s crazy. It’s embarrassing, actually, how quickly he can put you at ease. You’ve only known him for a few months, but it feels like you’ve known him forever. You sigh, dreamily, as you recall how he had introduced himself to you and Lacey during welcome week. He had to squeeze in the fact he was the president of the most popular frat on campus.

Even then, he made you blush. Though you couldn’t act on it; you’d had a boyfriend at the time. But you’ve been single for almost as long as you’ve known Oli, since you dumped him a week or two after; when you realised you didn’t love him anymore. And, still, nothing has happened between you and Oliver.

You’re scared, truthfully.

You’re scared because you know he’s experienced and he’s confident. You know girls throw themselves at him and he knows he’s popular. You’re not a virgin, but compared to him you may as well be.

After clearing your throat and shaking your head to dismiss your train of thought, you start looking for food to add to your basket from your favourite pizza place. It’s so hard to choose, as much as you’d love to get everything, you’re basically broke.

Incoming call.

“Please, no.” your voice breaks as you speak out loud.

You shouldn’t answer. The number is private and you already know what’s going to happen. But you’ve tried that before. You’ve tried ignoring them, but they just keep calling until you answer.

You’re frozen, paralysed with fear as you contemplate what to do. Lacey isn’t here to support you this time. She won’t be coming back, either. So, do you really want to answer? Do you really want to deal with how many calls you’ll receive if you don’t?

The burden of dealing with this alone is too much to bear.

But you’ve been left with no other choice.

“H-Hello?” you whimper, eager to get it over with. The breathing starts, and you’re surprised that this time it’s enough to make you cry. And it’s not just a few tears falling. Whoever is on the other end of the call will undoubtedly know what you’ve been reduced to. “Please stop doing this. W-What do you want from me?” you cry.

It's useless, though, the breathing just continues.

“I can’t t-take it anymore, please, p-please…”

“Mmmmpf,” you hear, it’s cracked and strained and it makes you feel sick. You aren’t sure if you’re imagining things, or if this sicko is actually getting off to the sound of your anguish and desperate pleas. “Thank you.” they say, the voice is deep and distorted but it’s clear as day.

Your breath is trapped in your lungs. And for the first time, they hang up.

You just can’t anymore.

Can’t breathe.

Can’t function.

Can’t think.

You can think enough to call Oli, though. Tremoring digits manage to navigate away from the takeout website to bring up your text thread with Oliver once more. And you don’t hesitate to press the call button.

Your eyes are soaked, vision blurry like a smudged camera lens as you look around your barren apartment while you wait for him to pick up.

“Hi gorgeous,” he answers, a seductive lilt in his tone. If you weren’t so worked up, you’d be flustered. You can picture the smirk on his face as he talks, though you aren’t really listening. “What’s up, baby? Calling to brag about that pizza?”

“O-li.” you sniff, voice cracking after each vowel. He’s silent, but you hear him move. Like he’s sitting upright suddenly, ready to spring into action to rescue you. “He c-called. Again, Oli… again—”

“Shit.” he sighs. “Do you want me to—”

“Please… come get me. ‘m so scared, don’t wanna be here a-alone.” you whine.

“I’m on my way.” he tells you. “I won’t be long, baby. I promise. See ya soon, princess.” he finishes, cutting off the line as he rushes to his car.

Your body stiffens as the silence of your apartment hits you once more. You can’t waste time, though. So, you pack. You’re quick about it, too. You fill your biggest bag with toiletries, a change of clothes and sleepwear… and your coursework.

There’s no way you’ll be doing any work tonight, but you can at least pretend you’re functioning like normal. You can’t let this creep dictate your entire life, right? Maybe being with Oliver will actually keep you calm enough to actually get some of your work started.

Oli: I’m outside x

The black night sky makes your heart race as you walk out of your apartment. The winter cold is harsher in the bleak evenings. Your thin sweater isn’t enough to protect you from the air nipping at your skin.

It’s the least of your worries; all you can think about is the fact this stalker of yours could be watching you right now. It could be anyone. Someone from your class, someone you shared the elevator with, your next-door neighbour. The very thought makes your steps quicken. You’re hurrying to the elevator and bashing the button until it arrives. It’s the first time you’ve felt safe since you left your apartment, because you’re alone. But even then, your skin breaks into goosebumps as you look up at the CCTV camera in the corner.

You’ll never feel safe, not really.

You rush down the road when you see Oliver’s car in the distance. He honks, and it’s all you need to run to him. You’re running like an athlete, and it feels more humiliating than it should. You’re sure Oliver understands why you’re frightened; and you’re sure he won’t judge you for sprinting to the car. But, still, it feels pathetic.

You open the door roughly before you practically dive into the passenger seat. He moves out of the way a little as you throw your overnight bag into the back seat.

“Hey, you’re alright now. Yeah? I’ve got you.” he speaks softly, doing what he can to relax you. You almost melt into his touch as he tucks a hair behind your ear. You do, a little, your body almost melds to the plush leather seat. Your head falls backwards onto the head rest, and your lip begins to wobble. “Poor thing…” he sighs.

“D-Drive, please…” you say, voice weak and strained.

He nods, driving off towards the frat house.

“I wouldn’t worry, you know.” he tells you, putting his hand on your thigh as he drives slow and carefully. You don’t object to his advances, in fact, it’s a comfort to feel his warm hand on your bitter flesh. Even his rough thumb stroking your skin is a welcome feeling. “It’s probably your ex, princess.”

“You think so?” you wonder. “I don’t know… he didn’t take the breakup well, but—”

“You never know what people will resort to when they’re heartbroken, baby.” he tells you, uneven eyes focus on you even as he drives. It makes you nervous, but his calm demeanour forces you to ignore it. You trust him, wholly. “Plus, he knows he lost the best thing that’ll happen to him in his pathetic life.”

“… Oli.” you smile, looking down at your knees as you try to avoid his cocksure stare.

He doesn’t say another word for the rest of the journey.

You come face to face with Lacey as you walk through the grandiose double doors. You feel like a guest of honour as you enter the castle that Oliver Aiku reigns over. Everyone is filled with warm smiles and happy faces as you see them. But your expression in return is feeble. You try to smile, but you’re so downtrodden, and Lacey immediately knows why.

She doesn’t even care that you don’t say hello when you run by her on the stairs and hurry to Oliver’s room. Oliver remains at the bottom while he watches you flee.

“She got another call.” he informs your roommate.

“Fuck.” she hisses through her teeth as she looks back up the stairs. Her voice is filled with remorse as she thinks things through. “I shouldn’t have left her alone; I knew she was—”

“S’alright, Lace,” Oliver smiles, his pristine pearly whites instantly put her at ease. “You can’t be with her every second, don’t blame yourself.” his eyes are so warm and full of love, she sees it every time he talks about you. He’s good for you, she thinks. He’s so sweet about you and he’s crazy about you.

“Give her our best.” Eita tells him, putting a hand on Lacey’s shoulder as they descend the stairs. “We’re going to smoke in the garden.”

“Enjoy yourselves, kids.” Oliver smirks, winking at them before chasing after you.

He sees you making yourself comfortable in his room. You’re already undressed, and you don’t care that he can see you. He doesn’t dare look away, either. But you don’t mind. He watches as you put on the mismatched pyjamas you threw into your bag, and he sits beside you on the bed after you collapse backwards onto the mattress.

“I’m gonna change my number,” you whisper. “I should have done that in the first place…”

“Good idea.” he agrees. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his hand rest atop your head, his thumb delicately stroking your forehead again and again. He swears he sees you fall asleep for a second before you scare yourself awake with a too heavy breath. “Should we get you that pizza?”

You nod, lightly.

“I’d like that.”

He’s the perfect gentleman. You’re lucky to know Oli, you think. That’s how you feel anyway, as he watches you in silence while simultaneously encouraging your efforts in getting your schoolwork done.

He was kind, and he was helpful. Telling you that you could take a break or stop all together for the evening when your food arrived. And so, you spent a good while making notes and studying textbooks.

“Atta girl.” he winks at you, teasingly, when you begin to scribble down words onto pages. “I’m proud of you, baby, don’t let that idiot get under your skin.”

“Thanks Oli, I—” you’re cut off by the sound of your phone vibrating. You look over your shoulder and back to the desk you’ve been sitting at for the last 35 minutes. “O-Oli…” you whimper, showing him your phone.

He sets his own phone down on his bedside cabinet as he focuses on yours. It’s them. Oliver takes your phone, eyes furrowed as he debates whether to answer or not - choosing to answer brazenly. He puts it on loudspeaker, if only so you can confirm it is indeed the man who’s been harassing you endlessly.

The breaths are heavy but also stifled. It’s like he’s trying to control himself. He’s trying to be quiet. Oliver looks at you for answers, but you don’t have any for him. You haven’t got a single solitary clue on how to deal with these calls anymore.

Nothing works.

“Keep messing with her, I’ll fuck you up.” he says sternly. He eyes you up to make sure you’re listening to him. He wants you, needs you, to know he’s going to protect you at any cost. “We know who you are, so knock it the fuck off.”

He presses the big red disconnect button and puts your phone down beside you on the desk. He’s a little taken aback when you rush into his arms, your head resting on his firm chest while your arms wrap tightly around his torso. His hand comes down gently on the crown of your head and hear him emit a soft chuckle. You can’t see the small smile etching its way across his face, but you know it’s there.

“I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, okay?” he assures you. You feel like a different person, with him. It’s like you’re having an out of body experience when you find yourself lunging forward on your tippy toes to place your lips against his. His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t pull away. Not right away, at least. He holds your shoulders after a few seconds go by. “Where did that come from?” he smirks.

“I don’t know, sorry… I just—” you’re interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing. You back away a little, smiling. “Saved by the bell.” you joke.

“I’ll go,” he closes the gap between you again, bending down to capture your lips in a soft, chaste kiss once again. “Find a movie or something, anything you want.” he whispers against your skin before parting from you.

You shiver, slightly, after he closes the door behind himself. The rational side of you knows that you’re fine. Nothing bad is going to happen right now. But you can’t help feeling safer with Oli around.

Maybe that’s why you kissed him.

You’re just so grateful to him.

“We should prob’ly go to sleep.”

You nod, agreeing when you see the time tick tick ticking on the plain black clock above his desk. A few hours had passed since the most recent call. You didn’t even pick a movie, you ended up watching some silly gaming videos on YouTube while you ate together.

It was divine.

And you can’t deny the possibility that it tasted better with a smile on your face and good company.

You get under the covers, your body feeling warmer as you watch Oliver circle the bed to turn off the light. He’d decided to forgo wearing anything to cover his chiselled body, and you suspect he did it on purpose.

The room is plunged into darkness until he uses the flashlight on his phone to guide his way back to bed. The mattress sinks behind you as he gets under the covers, and you only just manage to suppress a yelp when he presses his body against yours. You could quite literally dissolve under the pressure.

He smirks against the juncture between your neck and shoulder as he kisses you there, a desperate mewl escaping you in an instant. His hand rests on the curve of your hip, though his thick fingers begin to sink into your malleable flesh. You can’t even bring yourself to protest as you feel him not so subtly nudge his hips into you. And you can feel him.

“Oli… w-we shouldn’t.” you say, softly, the desperation clinging to your tongue gives away your true feelings instantly. You shouldn’t? That’s your opinion, clearly, as a rough hand winds its way around your body and up the baggy unflattering t-shirt you’d decided to wear.

“Are you sure?” he whispers against the hairs standing on end on the back of your neck. Words formulating in your mouth crumble to pieces when he squeezes the supple flesh of your breasts, alternating between them like he’s deciding which is his favourite. He experimentally rolls one of your nipples between his finger and thumb, and he’s mesmerised by the sound you release and the way you back your ass up against his aching length. He offers his own breathy sound in response. It’s almost a gasp. “You like this?” he wonders aloud despite knowing.

And you could cry as you nod.

It’s been so long since you’ve been touched. Since you’ve been loved.

And why should you put your needs on hold just because you’re a little scared?

“What about just the tip, princess?” he mutters, you feel your panties soak through as gravelly words enter your ear canal. He’s that desperate. He needs you that badly that he’s prepared to settle for just the tip. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand how much I need you, baby?”

“We r-really shouldn’t…” you tell him.

Even through the material of the top you’re wearing, you feel his rock hard body pressed heavily into your back. His hard-on makes you dizzy, you may as well be drunk from how much the room is spinning as you do all you can to resist.

“But you want to.” he tells you. He moves you onto your back and cages you in. He brushes his bulging sweats into your heat, his head drooping as he feels so close but so far to what he’s always wanted. Since the very moment he set his sights on you, he wanted this. “I can feel you, princess. You can feel me too, yeah?” he asks.

“Y-Yes, Oli… I feel you.”

“So stop fightin’ it.” he commands, though there’s a level of desperation interlaced with his words. He pulls down his sweats and his cock springs free, slapping against his abs and leaving a sticky smear against his tensing muscles. You whimper when he repeatedly taps his cockhead against your clit, even through the layers you’re wearing to cover it. Your toes curl. “Just the tip, sweetheart. C’mon, for me… been waiting so long for this.”

You don’t even answer before he hooks deft fingers into the waistline of your shorts. He leaves your panties, though. And you yelp as his fingers tease the pretty lace covering your drippy folds. He hums, he moans as his fingers run along the clothed length of your slit.

“You’re fucking soaking, baby. You need this cock, please. Let me fuck you. Why are you tryna deny yourself of a good time?”

And with that, you find yourself nodding dumbly.

He growls at your muted answer. It’s all he needs. It’s all he fucking needs and he’s happy his odd coloured eyes even manage to pick up on the gesture even in the dark. Could he have imagined it? He doesn’t know, nor does he care when your legs spread open for him like a flower once he moves your panties aside. The dewiness is cold against the crease of your thigh, but it’s barely noticeable as Oli spits down on your pulsing clit.

“Just the tip, o-okay?” you stutter.

“Mmm,” he answers. He hisses as your tight cunt swallows him, practically sucking in the head of his cock as soon as your entrance feels him. His eyes lose focus for a second and his breathing is erratic.

It’s happening.

It’s really happening.

He almost loses balance, hands settling on your bent knees so he can stabilise himself. You’ve been playing so hard to get for so long. And even you aren’t sure why.

He cups your face as he lowers his body on top of yours. His lips slot against your own as he kisses you passionately, though he breaks it soon enough.

“’m sorry.” he apologises. And you’re confused, only for a moment, before you feel his full-length plunge into your unprepped walls. Your hands fly to his back, nails digging and scratching over beautiful musculature and marking him like he’s yours “You’re fucking tight, baby.” he chuckles, kissing you again as his hips begin to gyrate.

“Oli, I said—”

“Don’t care.” he argues, already knowing what you’re about to say. “You feel too good. So tight f’me, princess. ‘n I’m making you feel good, yeah? Let me fuck you, stop thinking and take it.” he tells you, hips snapping harder to accentuate his point.

“Nngh—!” you moan, your nails still claw and mark at his back. He chuckles, darkly, as you draw blood. He doesn’t care, not in the least. He hadn’t expected you to be like this, but he can’t say he isn’t enjoying it. He kisses your neck as his thrusts get deeper and harsher. You feel his lips curve as you clench around him tighter.

He’s found your spot.

That perfect spot deep inside of your perfect cunt.

Your tight walls that now he’s certain were made for him to fuck. He pulls out, and it’s so brief. But the way you’re whimpering tells him how much of a good girl you are. You’re trained without even needing to cum. You’ve never been fucked so good.

After all of the sex you had with your ex, you didn’t know missionary could feel like this.

Doggy was always your favourite because it was the only time you could really feel anything with him. But this… you can feel him in your fucking throat. Your mind is blank as he pounds into you again and again at an unrelenting pace.

“Who’s making you feel good?” he mumbles into your ear. You feel close to passing out when he nibbles on your earlobe right after. Your cunt clenches and he laughs because he swears if you do that again you might actually break his cock. “Who’s fucking you so good, hm? Tell me who’s making your pretty pussy purr.”

“Y-You!” you gasp. “Oli, please! Please don’t stop.” you wail.

You can’t even feel embarrassed at the thought of anyone hearing you. Not when he’s dangling your first penetrative orgasm right in front of your face like a donkey with a hanging carrot. You mumble his name like it’s a prayer as he batters into your g-spot as if it were his soul reason for living.

“Waited too fuckin’ long for this,” he admits, the scruff of his facial hair scratches your skin as he gives you a filthy, sordid tongue kiss whilst continuing to assault the button deep within that will lead to your eventual ruin. And it’s close. It’s so fucking close and the two of you can feel it. “First time you’ve been fucked properly. That pathetic ex of yours—”

“D-Don’t,” you warn him, having no desire talking about your potential stalker when you’re so close to reaching your peak.

He grabs your face and squeezes until your lips pucker for him. Your eyes widen as he stares into them. You will listen to what he has to say, he’s making damn sure of it.

“Had a perfect pussy right in his face ‘n he didn’t know what to do with her.” he smirks. “No wonder you didn’t want him anymore.”

“Oli,” you sob. “Oli, please.”

“But I can make you cum.” he tells you. He frees your face and holds his hands under the bends of your knees. You feel every breath in your lungs escape as he folds you in half. He can’t help but laugh, not quite at your expense but it feels like that regardless. Only because he’s shocked. He can’t believe such a simple change could have you cumming so quickly for him. “Good girl, that’s it, baby.” he praises you.

“Haah, hah, aaaah! O-Oli! Mmmpf—!” you gasp, creaming around him pathetically as he drills his length in and out of you.

“I’ll make you cum t-that hard. Every fucking time, princess.” he stutters as he nears his own end. He isn’t sure, but he’s almost certain he sees your eyes cross as you cum for him. God you’re such a slut. He can’t believe you’ve been acting so coy and hard to get for so long. You’ll be addicted, now. You won’t be able to get enough now that you’ve experienced what a good fuck can really do for you. “Fuck. Fuuuuu-ck…” he finishes, still thrusting into you.

The warmth you feel coat your insides has your self esteem at an all time high. And you hate how much of a simple-minded girl you really are. As if guys won’t cum in anything they stick their dicks in if given the chance. And, still, you feel so special that Oliver Aiku chose you to be his own personal cum dump for the night.

His sweet words and ability to make you unravel make you feel more meaningful to him than you really are. He kisses you repeatedly before collapsing by your side. His seed dribbles out of your spent cunt and, now, you feel disgusting. But it doesn’t take long for him to catch his breath and move to spoon you again. He puts his softening length back inside, intent on keeping you plugged up with the goal of falling asleep like this.

“T-Thank you… Oli…” you whisper.

He doesn’t speak.

But a sweet kiss on your shoulder is all you needed from him.

“Oliver.” you whisper.

He grunts in response, and that’s all. You consider saying his name again. You consider saying it a little louder this time so he’ll hear you. But instead, you drop it. If anything, it’s probably a blessing. You raise your head a little to check where all of your belongings are. If he’s so out of it that he can’t even respond to his name, you should take the chance to sneak out before anyone can tease you about your antics.

You’re expecting an earful from Lacey. She’ll want to talk about every sordid detail. And, truthfully, you’d rather die. You’re embarrassed. You’re ashamed of yourself for even having sex on your mind when you’re dealing with a stalker.

The thought of the other guys seeing you is filling you with embarrassment, too. You know already without even seeing them that everyone knows what you did. You were so loud, both of you were. And in the moment, you didn’t care. Oliver didn’t either, but he’ll wake up not caring too.

Guys that hadn’t heard you fucking will have definitely been told by now. You’ll be greeted by smirks and torment on your way out of the frat. You should have known this would end up happening. It’s been obvious how much Oliver wanted this for a long time, and you held off, but last night you were weak.

So weak, and now you want to runaway from the scene of the crime.

You’re taken aback as you try and get out of bed but you’re pulled straight back into Oliver’s arms.

“Where’d you think you’re going?” he asks.

Fuck.

As if he couldn’t get any sexier, of course his morning voice is hot. It’s coarse and rugged and you instinctively melt back into his arms. You’ll tell him. You will tell him that you’re leaving. Right after you grind on him a little bit.

Just a little bit.

“I h-have to go,” you lie. “I’ve got things to do, Oli.”

“Mmm, don’t care. Got morning wood, feel it?” he asks. His arm snakes around your body and his palm flattens against your stomach so that your ass is pressed against his erection once again. “Can’t go ‘til you do something about it.”

“Oli I, aah, fu—! N-Not fair…” you mewl as his fingers dip into your panties and his fingers begin to play with your silky clit.

“Suck me off.” he commands, his touches on your clit become lighter and lighter until he stops completely. “I’ll finger you ‘til you’re droolin’ if you suck this cock f’me, princess.” he stuffs his wet fingers into your mouth so you can taste yourself. It catches you off guard, and you sputter around them. But as he continues to finger fuck your face, you begin to mewl around his thick digits. “Good girl, just suck my cock like that.”

He reaches behind his head and throws a pillow to the ground for you. He lifts you so you’re facing him, and can’t quite believe how seamlessly he manages to carry and move you exactly where he wants.

And then you remember, he’s experienced.

He sits on the edge of the bed whilst your legs are wrapped around his waist as you make out. He bites your lip and encourages you to drop to the ground. You nod, reluctantly, worried that you won’t be able to give the performance he’s hoping for.

But regardless, he watches as you move the pillow across the floor and between his feet so you can kneel on it.

You whimper a little as your legs widen as you kneel, feeling last nights ejaculate slowly drip out of you and onto his fresh, pristine pillow. He doesn’t care, though. His dick is soaked from your cunt and his pre. And it’s all you can think about as he lightly slaps it against your nose and lips.

Your jaw loosens and your mouth is a perfect ‘O’ shape for him to slot into. His fingers lace through your hair as he slowly lowers you onto his cock. You hadn’t noticed in the dark, but he’s uncircumcised. You’ve never seen a dick like his before.

Your hand wraps around his length as you take him into your mouth, but you soon pull away again. You can’t believe how much easier it is to work someone with foreskin.

He smirks, seeing the thoughts go through your head. He’s so sensitive and receptive and you’re clueless. He’s practically putty in your hands and yet you think he’s the one in control. You’re so cute and naïve.

He loves girls like you.

“Suck it, princess.” he commands. “S’not a toy, y’know. Suck my dick clean.”

You clear your throat before sinking down onto his length once again, finding a steady rhythm to suck and lick and take him down your throat. He’s average length, but he’s girthy. It’s hard to take, honestly. Compared to your pencil-dicked ex, your eyes are watering and you’re doing anything and everything not to choke or gag.

He sees it, too, he’s got a perfect view as he tugs at your hair to make sure you’re keeping eye contact with him as you suck him dry.

“That’s a good slut,” he smirks through a heavy breath. “Take this dick, jus’ like that…” he continues.

Your thighs squeeze together as he degrades you. You don’t like it, you don’t like that you’ve become a slut after being his princess. But at the same time, you love it. You want to hear it again. So you take him deeper. And deeper.

“Such a dumb girl letting that loser ex of yours stick his dick in you.” he says, licking his lips as he pushes your head lightly. His chest rises and falls rapidly as the pressure of his hand intensifies until your nose brushes against brunette curls, and then squishes against his pubis. “And now he’s stalking you… what do you think he’d do if he knew you were sucking this cock?” he asks, his voice breathy and desperate as his hips start to buck.

You try to pull away, but the barely trying effort of his hand keeping you in place is somehow stronger. He coos as you stutter, struggling to breathe through the desperation.

“Breathe through your nose, stupid.” he tells you. “Good cock makes pretty girls like you real dumb.” he smiles.

He yanks at your hair until you’re fully removed from his cock. Pre and dribble pools from your mouth as you gasp desperately. You want to be mad at him, you want to tell him not to speak to you like that.

But you can’t.

Not when his lips are on yours and you feel yourself getting off from the idea of him tasting himself on your tongue. You’re breathless and out of words when he breaks it momentarily, and the sound of tacky masturbation is like a tidal wave in your ears.

“My pretty little slut, aren’t you?” he asks, kissing you again before you can answer. You can’t answer when your head is so empty. Is that really what you are? It doesn’t matter, you suppose. He’s already decided for you. “God, don’t you have any self-respect? Don’t you think you deserve better than being a stupid slut for me?”

His face contorts as he jerks himself harder and faster. You’re too busy thinking about his question to notice, though. You suck his tip into your mouth before he forces you away. His intimidating glare telling you that he’s looking for an answer this time.

“M-Maybe…” you pout, eyes wet and wide as you wonder aloud. Do you deserve better? Isn’t this all your good for? He’ll keep you safe, at least. He seems to like you more than any other girl on campus. He’s the best fuck you’ve ever had and you’re way more into him than you’d ever let on.

And just the as word leaves your lips, he’s moaning boisterously. Your face painted in white, pearly cum. A showing of just how much worth you have in his eyes. It feels almost endless as he gives you a full facial, hissing as it drips from your eyelash and into your eye.

He scrapes some of it from your face and force feeds it into your mouth.

You’re disgusting, too, because you suck without question.

“Fuck, you’re nasty.” he laughs. He lifts you up from the ground and tosses you onto the bed with little care. You almost want to cry from the stinging sensation you feel in your eye. You should have left when you had the chance. Instead you’re starting off the morning and Oliver Aiku’s cum rag. You don’t feel much better when he throws your shorts at you. “Clean yourself up.”

You try your best, focusing the material around your eye area as you try to do some sort of damage control. You see him tuck his dick into his sweats with your unaffected eye, and he swaggers towards the bedroom door.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“I’ll get you a towel, wait here.” he tells you.

He hastens down the stairs and walks into the kitchen. The frat is bare, he suspects most of the guys must still be in bed. Though as soon as he rounds the corner, he notices Eita sitting at the kitchen table. They share a knowing smirk, silently celebrating the fact that Oliver finally got what he wanted out of you.

Oliver pours himself a bowl of cereal, leaning against the counter as he crunches it between his teeth. Eita looks up from his phone after a few moments of silence and finally speaks.

“Did you fuck her, then? Or—”

“Fucked her stupid. ‘n she sucked me off this morning.” he smirks, slurping the milk on his spoon as he thinks about your pretty face covered in his seed. “All thanks to you, my friend.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eita laughs, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear and igniting it with a lighter from his pocket.

“No no, really, thank you.” he laughs, “I got to be her knight in shining armour when you called her last night. She was so easy to fuck after that.” he grins, holding a fist out for him to bump. Eita chuckles, trading which hand holds his cigarette before returning the gesture.

“You’re such a sick fuck.” Eita laughs, scrolling through his phone. “Look,” he shows his screen to Oliver. He can only laugh when he sees yet another article about the psycho serial killer that has made your anxiety worse than it already would be with a stalker on the loose.

“I’m not the one killing girls, am I?” Oliver comments, “Just scaring one girl with some heavy breathing.” he shrugs.

Even he isn’t twisted enough to think whoever this local serial killer is isn’t completely fucked up. But he can’t deny that it started happening at the perfect time. After he set his plan in motion to be your stalker. After he planted a seed in your mind that he’d always be there for you if you needed him. He’d always protect you no matter what happened, and he wasn’t about to let this stalker get to you.

You fell for it. Hook, line and sinker. You’re even starting to suspect your stupid limp dick ex because he told you to suspect him. Oliver Aiku, the guy who’s always around when you need him most. The guy who’s always just a phone call or text message away. The guy who’s always offered to be by your side and jump in harms way to protect you.

Oliver wasn’t even on your radar.

Perfect Oliver.

Sweet Oliver.

© 2024 rinhaler

[short-black-diamond]

"Yo, she's a pro." ...part two

part one, ... , part three, part four, part five

warnings/summary: cursing, Raichi and Igarashi get on your nerves, raichi tries to flirt -but gets humbled instead- and you only have heart eyes for Kunigami, you call Ness pretty boy, Nagi screams at you, Reo rests on your lap, Barou is rude but respectful, you're in a sauna with Otoya, Karasu, and Oliver, and later on, Rin and Kunigami join

---

It was now the third and last round, and Barou was acting crazy, also it didn't help that Snuffy egged him on even more, but not that it would be a problem to you. You could've made your own goal easily, but you were only there as a guest player -and Ego would be at your neck again if you didn't pass the ball- so you rather helped Isagi.

However, with you and Ness making a deal of him scoring a goal himself and Kaiser being sent to the infirmary, Ness was a sweating mess, but he also looked excited. You frowned.

"Did you never score your own goal-" "Yes I did, shut up!", he yelled rudely and you had untrusive thoughts which you'd love to act on.

You kicked behind his knee and he folded like an omelet

You just frowned even more. 'I hope I don't regret this...'

Anyway, as Ness and Isagi were going forth, you just stood behind. The both got alarmed and looked back to you with betrayal written all over your faces and you got angry. "YOU IDIOTS CAN'T ALWAYS RELY ON ME, PLUS WE CHANGED THE FORMATION!!!", you yelled as you stood in front of the goal (you moved from midfield to defense). They ran with the ball. Noa approached you.

"Say, did you do this on purpose? Putting yourself in here and letting them go?"

You smiled. "They should come to terms with the fact that there won't always be a player like me who can just pass them the ball whenever they want.

...If I wouldn't have been here, then it would be Kurona in my place. He knows how to receive the ball and also control it pretty good. And if you don't mind, I would like to switch with Hiori."

"That blue haired guy?", Noa asked, a hint of surprise in his voice as he looked at Kurona who was running and passing Isagi (yelling "pass pass!") and Ness (begrudgingly and with a grimace) and then to the blue haired boy who sat on the bench.

Hiori looked at the three boys with furrowed brows and much wider eyes, as if he could lose sight of what was happening there if he didn't open them wide enough. He also mumbled, Noa saw. He turned to you and nodded.

"Hiori." "Huh?", the boy asked as he looked up to you. "Get in. I wanna sit.", you said, pulling him up by his hand to stand and you sat on his seat.

"But--why me?", Hiori asked as he looked back to you, unsure. You gave him a confused look. "What do you mean? I saw you nearly pulling your hair out in frustration when watching them how they play. I want to see how you'd do it. And Noa does too. Now go."

And with that, the taller boy nodded with a blush as he ran out. You sighed, content with the decision. What you didn't think of were Raichi and Igarashi who were sitting next to you.

"So...why didn't we get in?", Igarashi asked as he looked at you with a look of expectation. You sweatdropped. "How should I know? Ask Noa or Ego. I'm just the guest player here."

Raichi glared at Iagarashi before clearing his throat and unsubtly putting an arm on your armrest (pls imagine they have cinema seats) and gave you a lazy grin, his sharp canines coming to view. "Maybe they knew that this sexy soccer player would just be the star of the show.", he exclaimed as he pointed to himself with his thumb.

You allowed yourself some fun for once, so you looked him up and down, leaning a little more to him -to which Raichi got a little shy and red- and you smirked. "Well, you really are sexy.", you stated, and Raichi had a nervous grin at your suggestive tone. he could also feel his heart nearly beating out of his chest when you got close to his ear.

"But maybe that's just the one thing that led you here.", you whispered and looked back to the game. Raichi slumped in his seat as Igarashi laughed at him. 'Hmph! I'll make ya fall for me, Yena, just you wait and see- huh?'

Raichi noticed your serious expression, but your cheeks getting pink as you watched a certain orange haired boy. 'Kunigami! Seriously?!', the blonce thought as he gritted his teeth.

Raichi glared at the player, who tried taking the ball from Isagi, just like Barou, but much more subtle and sneakier. You glanced at the other players as well, but Kunigami -even though he didn't hold the ball- captivated you in a way you didn't like, but you tolerated it enough to feel butterflies in your stomach.

Was it the way he looked dead serious? Because he had scored plenty of goals? Because he came in the top five when you guys had to do Noa's first training regimen? (you came first, btw) Or, how you tried not to look to much at him when you and him were training in the same room? You didn't know what it really was, maybe it was because he just looked...so mysterious? Hot? You honestly didn't know.

...but you wanted to know more about him.

...

Ness sat on a chair, ice on his crotch as he glared at you. You were smirking at him. Ness' corners of his mouth turned downwards in a comical manner. "Stop fucking laughing!", he yelled, and you cracked up.

(In my earlier post, you kicked Ness in the crotch, and now he's chilling, pun intended)

You went next to him and sat down. Your thighs touched and as much as Ness hated you for kicking his groin, he blushed when a girl -not just any girl, you- sat yourself next to him. "And just why are you so ungrateful? You scored a goal with Isagi and Kurona and Hiori. Wasn't it an amazing moment?"

And Ness pondered for a moment, his anger to you forgotten for a fleeting moment. "So...I mean, yeah, i-it actually did feel good...but you didn't have to hurt me here. Especially in the middle of the game...Do you know how much that hurts??", he remarked and you chuckled. "Yeah, I could've just -not- done it, but I did. But hey, at least you scored a goal. Do you still want to pass, or do you want to shoot your own goals, Ness?"

The boy next to you only stared ahead of him, biting his lip. "Ah ah, no biting. Your lip'll get busted, pretty boy."

Ness took a second to comprehend your words, and when he finally understood, he blushed furiously. "Y-you can't just call me that!", he yelled, flustered beyond repair as he leaned back from you. But he didn't make space, your thighs still touched,

"All boys are pretty. It's just, I like reminding some of you.", you stated and patted his head, your fingers slightly combing through his hair.

"Sorry for hurting you, Ness. I just didn't want to see a wonderful blossoming rose like you to wither behind a tree like Kaiser. I want you to become a rose with the most beautiful rose petals, but also the most dangerous thorns. I see potential in you, Alexis Ness."

Ness stared at you with an open mouth, rosy cheeks and parted lips. you just smiled in return. "Also, please try to score more goals. You look cool when you do.", you remarked, and then, you were gone, leaving the german with his thoughts about you alone.

...

You and Nagi played minecraft on your phones in break time, and you made Nagi bring out his most emotional side. "WHAT THE HELL!? STOP KILLING MY DOGS! YENAAAAAA!!!", he yelled angrily at you, and if you weren't his closest friend, you would've been scared. But no, there you are, ringing for air in laughter as his eyes and mouth opened comically wide.

And then there's Reo, who rests on your lap, completely happy with life. Melody, your blue snake, has slung herself around his arm and they both took a sweet afternoon nap. Reo once told you that your thighs were more comfy than the finest pillows he had laid his head on, and you just stared at him with furrowed brows as you tried to eat away his side of the pizza he bought for you two.

Now, you occasionally scratched his nice purple locks and he sighed, happy with life and ready to die in peace. That was, until Barou stepped in. He knocked first, of course, hearing a "come in!" from you before storming in.

"You! Tell me how you're so good in soccer!", the "King" demanded, and you motioned for him to take a seat wherever he liked. He plopped down on your beanbag, manspreading.

"Well, I just love it.", you started, and you chuckled at him deadpanning at you. "Okay, uhm, I actually just train this game, it's called nine months. Do you know this game?", cue him shaking his head.

You sat a little upright, putting a hand on Reo's cheek to prevent his head form rolling away as you adjusted your position and he turned to that he was facing your tummy. You put away your phone, to which Nagi smiled satisfied (you couldn't kill his dogs that way) and put his phone away too, taking your other hand and placing it on his own head, demanding for head scratches.

Barou would be lying if he said he didn't want his head to be massaged and hair to be played with by you as well, but oh well.

"I played this game with my brothers when I was small-"

"You're still small-"

"And you're still a loser."

"...."

"As I was saying, I played "nine months" with my brothers. We played it so that whoever couldn't shoot against the metal above the goalkeepers head would be the goalkeeper- which was mostly me, but over time, I didn't have to be goalkeeper, and- oh, I'm trailing off, sorry, heheh.

Uh, what did I want to say? Ah, yes! So, in that game, you are only allowed to touch the ball once. You can only shoot or pass once. If you want to touch the ball again to do whatever with it, somebody else has to touch it at least once.

For example, in my case, I was playing with my one brother on the field against my other brother, who was the goalie. Me and my brother, who were playing against the goalie, passed each other the whole time until one of us scored a goal. If one of us scores a goal, the goalie "loses a month". If he loses all his nine months, he is out of the game, and the person who has a lesser month number than the other becomes goalie, or the game restarts.

Well, I don't know if you actually understood it, but I played it with Nagi and Reo too, and it is actually a really fun game.", you finished, looking at Barou fondly. "...So, you mean that every pass has a meaning and that it should be calc-" "No. No no, gosh. You guys always think so complicated...! What I mean is that even though you could only have the chance of scoring one little goal or getting a small pass, you should have fun while doing it. And, well, make good passes, but that's about it. Jeez, that's why I'd rather go to Lavinho or Snuffy, you guys think way too complicated..."

"Snuffy...is a weirdo. Thinks that if I, Barou the king, follow his plan, it won't fail? His plan did fail, as you saw."

You huffed. "Then untroduce him to 'nine months'."

(Barou nodded, stood up, and pulled Nagi and Reo away from you, yeeting them off your guestbed as he laid down on your lap. "Head scratches....please...", he murmured as he closed his eyes. You giggled. "Whatever you say, King.", cue Barou blushing like a cherry tomato and you cackled, but you still combed his hair with your fingers.)

...

You were confused when Oliver, Karasu and Otoya asked you to join them in something fun. But never would you have thought that there'd be a sauna in Blue Lock. You were beyond happy.

You sighed contently, as you sat in nothing but your towel (your swimsuit underneath) around the three boys. They all only had a towel around their hips, making their sixpacks and overall muscled and toned bodies visible.

You however, didn't pay them any mind as you enjoyed the hot room. "Say, Yena...do you have a boyfriend?", Otoya asked, Oliver and Karasu glancing at you subtly.

"No. 'm too busy.", you yawned. 'Damn, I could fall asleep here...'

"Huh? But you're surrounded by boys, doesn't that make your heart flutter?", Karasu teased, restraining himself from staring at your wonderful thighs. You gave him a look. "Quite the opposite. You guys talk more than my teammates, and you sweat around and it stinks even more than in my team's changing room, which is saying a lot.", you explained.

The three boys frowned at you, sitting upright to say something, but you continued. "But, I can only say that because you are guys. You have way more testosterone than us girls, so of course it stinks way more by you guys. And also about the speaking part; I enjoy talking to you guys, but smalltalk in the middle of a game? really?", you asked, referring to the time you got to play against them. Oliver blushed a little with a shy grin when he thought back to how you nutmegged him and scored a goal from that.

Otoya and Karasu chuckled embarrassed. "So you enjoy talking to us, Yena?", Karasu asked, trying to get back to the topic. However, you had something completely else in mind.

"Yes, I do, and I have also talked to some boys who dropped out of Blue Lock. Most of them had reasons of becoming world cup champions, but there was one who absolutely broke my heart.", and your face turned solemn.

"hah? Someone broke your heart? Who would be that stupid to break the heart of a pretty-"

"His parents died and he was the oldest of his siblings. He came and dropped out of Blue Lock for financial matters. And, well, I couldn't help but want to help him out, so playing for poor people became my reason to play.", you reasoned, but also interrupting Oliver.

Karasu, Oliver and Otoya looked in front of them, thinking that their reasons for football weren't good enough. (Oliver shut up your reason is good enough->read the manga if ydk what I'm talking abt)

"And...what was his name?" "Naruhaya Asahi. It's actually a pretty name, don't you guys think?"

"Naruhaya...?", came a new, deep voice. You turned around, and saw Kunigami. "You know him?", you asked, trying not to drool at the way he looked down on you, him also in nothing but a white towel around his hips.

"W-what are you doing here...?!", the orange haired boy asked, and held his towel tightly, a blush spreading across his cheeks. And Rin came into the picture as well.

"What's with the-Yena?!", Rin exclaimed, flustered that you were there (and he thought you didn't have anything under the towel which was clinging to your body), quickly going behind the doorway, because well...he wasn't one to have towels around his hips.

You furrowed your brows. "Why are you two acting like that?", you asked, looking back to the three boys which were grinning slyly. Then it dawned to you. With a rush, you stood up, and stormed out of the sauna.

'I can't believe I fell for that! Ugh, boys!', you thought as you slammed the door shut behind you and crashed against your bed. 'Karasu, Otoya and Oliver...you three will regret this!'

But you also thanked them. Now you have seen Kunigami in all his glory. Well, except his private areas, but hopefully, that'll change soon.

---

Hey hey hey! How did you find that?! Please comment what Yena/the reader would do to the three womanizers!

Really, it is up to you because I have no idea what I should write in the second part. Also please like, comment and reblog if you want to!

Read you in the next post!

taglist: @meryqi (->thought I should tag you love <3)

[kingkunigami]

This man needs to leave me alone, I can’t think😭

Warnings: 18+, public sex, fucking in your childhood bedroom, Oliver is obsessed with eating pussy, Oliver is a menace.

Pairing: Aiku Oliver x f!reader.

Word Count: 0.8k.

Oliver doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.

It’s almost as if the word doesn’t exist in his vocabulary, as he’s pawing at your ass and pulling your panties to the side. Never mind the fact that you’re standing in the middle of a packed bar, patrons all around you as his fingers brush through your messy slit.

“Come on, baby,” He gives you that shit-eating grin and you swear you could smack it off his face as he presses a calloused finger against your puffy clit, “At least your pussy’s fuckin’ honest, I can feel her dripping for me.”

It doesn’t matter if you argue back, complain that you’re in public and he can survive until he gets home— Oliver always gets what he wants.

Which is why he managed to get you.

He doesn’t care if you’re getting ready for work, slipping into a fresh pair of tights as you slide them up your thighs. His hands already poised and ready as he presses you over your vanity, a shrill rip sounding through your bedroom as he tears straight through. Pushing his throbbing length through the gaping hole to press against your slit, a satisfied grunt vibrating deep in his throat when he feels you hug his cock.

“I’ll be quick,” He groans, fucking into you with swift, sharp thrusts but it still doesn’t mean you make it to work. Stumbling into the office an hour late with his cum still nestled between your thighs.

You can try as hard as you like to push his head away after he tries to settle between your plush thighs when you’re trying to video chat your friends, messy stubble tickles the supple skin as he mouths at your clit.

“Not now, Oliver.” You push at his brow as he latches on to your clit, flicking it with his tongue.

“Just mute yourself,” He groans, letting his tongue drag lower as it prods against your tight hole, “Or don’t, you know I don’t care.”

He even has the gall to blame you for it, it’s not his fault you have such a pretty pussy— why wouldn’t he want to devour it?

He’s especially a menace when he finishes a match, dragging you into the showers even as you’re trying to bat him away. Pining you to the cool tile as he works his frustrations out on you, unbothered about who sees and hears as your head lifts over the stalls. Leaving the venue with your skin dewy and damp hair a mess, a clear indication of what you were both up to inside.

“Tell your pussy to stop being so pretty, then I wouldn’t want her so bad.” He’s unbelievable.

It doesn’t matter if your poor little cunt is sore from the previous nights activities, or that you tell him you’re dirty. It only spurs him on more as he breathes in the scent of you, committing it to memory as he drags his tongue through your folds.

But the problem is you’re in your childhood bedroom with your parents down the hall. Certain he’s attempting to kill you when he suggests just letting him have a quick taste, promising that he won’t be long. Which we know is another big fucking lie.

He’s got your legs strewn over his shoulders as he feasts on your cunt like a man starved, even your hand over your mouth to keep quiet is no match for the debauched sounds of him lapping at your messy sex, practically slurping your essence into his eager mouth as you try to keep him quiet.

“But she needs it, princess. I can feel her clenching around me.” He’s insufferable as he continues to delve his tongue inside your fluttering walls, nosing your clit as he works you towards your climax.

You think you’ve found salvation when he makes you cum, your desperate cries of his name muffled by your hands as he works you through your climax. Fingers dragging against your ridged walls as he tongues your sensitive clit, eyes staring up at you with mischief and intent as he keeps going.

Your thighs clamping down around his head to try and push him away does nothing but goad him on, his strong palms grip you tight. Fingers dipping into the plush skin as he parts your thighs like the Red Sea, leaving you exposed for him as he continues his meal. Dragging his tongue from your clit all the way to your tight asshole as he does as he pleases. His face glistens with your release, your slick drooling down his chin as he gives you a smug grin. Reaching up to wipe the back of his hand along his mouth to clean it off before lapping it up with his tongue.

Oliver is used to getting what he wants, when he wants. Especially when it comes to you.

[kiolvrrlv]

okaaay soo hii

what about aiku oliver x m reader but the reader is opposite of oliver? (idk the genre😓)

ill keep leading you on, if you keep leading me into your room

hi :3 THIS TOOK SO LONG GRAAH

school au // oliver aiku x m!reader

warning(s): cursing, enemies to lovers troupe(?), slightly suggestive

you were the loner of your school. if not, then one of the loners. you didn’t have much friends and you weren’t very liked, but that didn’t bother you one bit. you were fine with your current friends and you weren’t bombarded with school kids trying to talk to you. your school life was easy; good grades, teachers liked you. school couldn’t have been better, right?

you were fine in school, if oliver aiku didn’t try to strike a conversation with you.

oliver was the womanizer of your school. rumor has it that he’s slept with half the cheer team! crazy, right? he’s popular amongst the entire campus. not only was oliver attractive, he was also athletic and flirty; what most school-girls would want in a man.

he could have almost anyone he wanted; he could’ve went for the cutest girl or the prettiest boy, but no. he unfortunately chose you as his victim. he’d always talk to you whenever he saw the opportunity to. it was annoying.

you were invited to a party— a frat-party— and you originally decided not to go, but who were you to miss out on an opportunity to have fun? and it was just for one night, as long as you didn’t participate in any alcoholic beverage consumption.

but what was so annoying, was that oliver was going to the party too.

everything was going well. you were on a soft, cream-colored couch which seemed awfully unfortunate if a drink would’ve spilled and ruined it. you were about to take a sip of your punch until you felt a pair of muscular arms wrap around your waist. the person let out a soft sigh; you smelt a hint of alcohol.

“(name)..” the person muttered. you recognized that voice; it was oliver.

you rolled your eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. this didn’t go unnoticed by oliver. “is (name) mad..? (name) is mad, isn’t he?” he teased, a soft chuckle coming out of his lips. “come on, pretty boy. don’t be like that..”

he leaned in closer to your neck, planting a soft kiss onto the nape.

“what do you want now?” you groaned, trying to pry oliver off of you.

“i want you, (name). let loose and have some fun with me, won’t you?” he pleaded, placing another kiss onto your neck.

oliver climbed over the couch and sat next to you. he held onto your waist tighter than before. “i promise i won’t do a hit and run.. i’ll stay with you— i want to stay with you, pretty..” he muttered, taking in your scent.

you bit the inside of your lip. you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t find oliver attractive at all. his words left a bittersweet feeling. “stop playing, oliver.” you sighed.

“but i’m not, pretty.. i like you— a lot..” he said as he slid his hand under your shirt. “i want you and only you.. please..?”

he sounded so genuine. he wanted to sound genuine— you weren’t just a boy to him. you stole his heart and he let you take it without a second thought. you gave him the fluttering sensation in his stomach that he’s never felt with anyone but you. he wanted to give you those butterflies; he wanted you to let him love you.

he kept leaving small kisses on your neck and occasionally your shoulder. “i love you, pretty. i love you so much.” he muttered into your shoulder. “my pretty boy.”

all his sweet words and sayings couldn’t go unnoticed. it made you shiver; it made you blush. he was so gentle— so genuine. you just had to give in to him.

he started sucking the pulse-point on your neck. he loved you so much and he was expressing it to prove it.

he pulled back after a few seconds; softly kissing the hickey that he just gave you— a hickey that you let him give you. “i wanna be yours, i wanna give you all my love. please..?” he begged as he pulled you onto his lap.

you hesitated a moment before muttering a small “okay”, giving him the consent to give you the feelings that you gave him. opposites really do attract.

i lof chase atlantic 😣